Child of None (prequel of Alliance)
by Nutella-in-a-bowl
Summary: Novice and English cousin of Desmond Miles, Sarah, may not know it, but she has value greater than the biggest of diamonds. That's why the Assassins fight hard to keep her safe from the Templars. It's a matter of life or death for the young girl- she must learn to endure the disorientation of the Animus, as well as the stings of physical and mental wounds.
1. Encounter

_Life is definitely something I would not consider easy. There are always going to be people who want to make the worst of you, as well as the people who love and support you. There are ups and down, lefts and rights, goods days and bad days. Just when you think everything is fine, when everything is going well, something happens which makes you regret everything you've ever said and done._

* * *

I woke up, and was instantly blinded by a white light which was shining directly into my eyes. Instinctively, I squinted my eyes and tried to move my head away from it.

As I started to gather myself, I began to become aware of the silhouettes of the people crowding around me. I heard talking but I didn't understand what was being said. I tried to move my arms but they wouldn't move. It took me another moment to realise I was strapped to a table. Like a mental patient who was being cut open.

The light went out, and I tried tugging at my restraints. The voices sounded more stressed, and I started being more aware of my surroundings. The room was almost clear- a large white space, with a few units with numerous tools and monitors. There were about two dozen people, some wearing medical masks, others wearing white lab coats. I looked down at myself and saw that I was wearing a green hospital garment. I began to panic and started writhing.

"Miss, we need you to calm down."

These people were Abstego. _Why was I here? What happened? What were they doing to me?_

Oh. I remember._ Uncle Bill. The Assassins._

_The Animus._

With a roar of effort, I tore myself out of the restraints. I was pulled back by wires strapped to my head, but I tore those off too. Workers tried to stop me, but I managed to charge through them and take them down.

"She's escaping," I overheard one of the workers say into his phone. _Harrison_.

"_Well?_" I heard the reply,"_Capture her and place her in the Animus on my floor._"

"Yes sir."

I started to run. And run. And run. My heart was pounding so furiously against my chest I thought it was going to burst out of it. I heard shouting and running footsteps behind me and my heart moved faster still.

_What do I do? What do I do? __I can't use the elevator- they're too close behind me. Neither can I use the stairs- too many people. Maybe there was a window or a fire exit-_

-I shrieked as I was tackled over. Several men took a firm grasp on me, and started to carry/drag (I'm really not sure what that action was) towards a door. The door slid open and I was pulled into another white room. This one was more furnished, more decorated, but it had many more monitors and devices in there too. An old man with a short white beard and white hair wearing a lab coat over an expensive-looking suit stood in front of a seat with dozens of wires attached to it. He had his hands clasped behind his back and a dominant manor about him. Doctor Vidic. He had a sly smile on his face, one a fox would make when it corners a baby rabbit.

My eyes widened in realization. _He was going to put me in the Animus again. They were going to use me as a Guiana pig and mess with my head even more than they had. _I was going to be in a shitload of pain: emotionally, physically, and mentally.

"No! NO!" I cried, desperately trying to struggled in my captor's grips,"Let me go! Please! Don't make me go in there again!"

"Ready the Animus!" barked the Doctor, before returning his stare on me.

"N-no! Please!" I managed to slow them down by wriggling constantly, but soon they'd manage... "You don't understand what it feels like to be in there!"

"Don't worry," assured Vidic,"It won't be as bad as the other times. There's a strong chance that we'll be successful this time."

I was pinned down into the seat, and had two needles stuck into each arm. I screamed, as I felt an electrical surge run directly into my veins. Vidic leaned over me, his hands still clasped behind his back,  
"We've discovered something about the Animus which may be a huge breakthrough," explained Vidic, "We believe that as well as accessing the memories of our ancestors, we can also alter theirs so you're imprinted into their minds. It'll be like a dream for them, but for you it'll be so real. Amazing, don't you agree? And you're going to try out this method, to see if it works."

"Bill will come for me!" I exclaimed,"Desmond will too! A-and my dad!"

He sent me a pitied look, and he tutted,

"You don't remember, do you? Ah, yes. Amnesia is the main side effect of the experiments we're doing... Your father is dead, Sarah. I killed him, remember? " He chuckled.

There was a stabbing feeling in my gut as I remembered watching my dad die. _Though, I couldn't remember his face. I just remember seeing a body hit the ground and my name being shouted. _

A tiredness suddenly washed over me and my head grew very heavy. The people around me became out of focus and dark, and the last thing I see are the whites of Vidic's teeth as he whispers,  
"Sweet dreams."

I felt my eyes shutting without my consent. I soon blacked out.

* * *

**General POV**  
_The year- 1191._

An orphaned girl, about eleven, has been travelling for days to get to a small village called Masyaf. Her name is Channelle Talcard.

Channelle's father had told her to go to Masyaf should anything happen to him, and seek the brotherhood which live in the citadel and to Channelle, her father's death seemed like an appropriate enough reason to go there.

It was dark by the time she'd arrived. She'd walked from village to village, mostly by herself. She'd had to steal and thieve in order to eat and drink, and there were times where she'd had to protect herself from others. She wasn't proud the blood on her hands, but her father had taught her she'd always needed to do what's right, even if it meant taking a life.

Channelle was exhausted and needed shelter, so quickly took refuge inside an old stable. The place smelled funny, and the hay was itchy, but at least it was something. There was a bucket of water which seemed clean enough, so Channelle washed her face and splashed water on herself. Squinting her eyes, she made out her reflection in the water and stared at the girl staring back. Her bronze hair was falling out of the tie, she had a few grazes on her face. Her eyes were hazel, with bright green and yellow specks. She had a petite button nose, and her lips were full and rosy-coloured. Her eyebrows were maybe a little bushy, and her face shape was an oval, but overall she was a rather nice-looking girl.

Channelle sighed, giving her face one last splash.  
"Why would you want me talking to a few monks, father?" she asked aloud, lying back in the hay. She shifted about, making herself comfortable. Sighing loudly, she closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep.

**Meanwhile, in the citadel**  
Altair Ibn-la'Ahad grunted loudly as he slashed the dummy with his shortsword. He couldn't sleep, so he did what he always did when this problem occurred- train. He slashed and he jabbed the dummy until its straw innards were all over the place. If it were a person, there would have been a sickening bloody mess before him.

Breathing lightly, the assassin sat down on the fence. He looked up at the sky; it was a rather clear night, and the stars were visible in the dark blue-black sky. The night sky was one of the few things Altair appreciated. It calmed him somehow.

He took a moment to gather himself. The reason he couldn't sleep was because he had an important mission coming up. He had to drag two other assassins along (brothers Malik and Kadar) but that wasn't the issue. Al Mualim made it very clear about how vital it was to succeed. Even though there was a very slim chance Altair would slip up, the voice in the back of his head wouldn't stay its tongue, and it bothered him extremely.

"I shouldn't worry," Altair said aloud,"Worrying about it will make me fail." He stood up and began slicing his troubles away again, but on a different dummy.

* * *

**In the morning**

The scorching heat of the sun woke the young girl. The hay was warm and the air was humid, causing beads of sweat to form on her face. She sat up, splashed her face with water, and exited the stable in search of food.

It wasn't even midday and yet the village was full of life: children giggling and rushing about, merchants chatting to each other, women carrying pots walking around, husbands gossiping- there seemed to be too many people for such a small village.

Channelle eyed the crowd of people not too far away. The market. She wandered over to it, and began scanning the different stalls with her eyes. There was a large variety of things: glittering baubles, strange contraptions, grains, spices, herbs, and fruit.

_Fruit._

Her attention went to an apple, which in her opinion looked a bit lonely. She smirked at that thought, but then grew serious. She swiftly walked past the fruit stall, snatched the apple, and ran for cover. She hid behind a building which emitted a cool shade, and below it had a bale of hay. She raised a judging eyebrow at the yellow stuff, marveling slightly.

"Huh..." she said, out loud," there's an awful lot of hay around," She sighed, shook her head and then looked at the apple in her hand and grinned triumphantly. "Not bad..." She took a satisfied bite. Granted, it was warm from the sun but damn, it did satisfy her hunger. After she was finished, she stretched and yawned, quite relaxed. The brotherhood would have to wait, she decided, I'm happy here.

Suddenly there was a loud crash which mad Channelle jump out her skin. There were raised voices, and she was almost horrified to hear that some of those voices were speaking English.  
"I'm asking if you've seen this girl!" there was the rustling of paper.

"A-ah! I not know!"

"Have you or haven't you seen her?! It's a simple question!"

"I-I not understand. Arabic please?" There was a scream and a cry of pain.

_The Templars.  
_  
She poked her head out from behind the building to see people running away from the scene, and a merchant lying limp on the floor, blood covering his tunic. Several armed men in chainmail armour were spread about the market. Then one of them noticed the the bronze haired girl poking her head from behind a building and pointed.

"There! There she is! GET HER!" The other Templars saw where he was looking and started running towards Channelle.

_Oh, shit.  
_  
She ran, the Templars hurling their heavy bodies after her.

A mildly curious Altair had been running an errand when the commotion started. His first reaction was to kill all but one of the Templars and take that one back for interrogation, but after it became clear that they were solely after a little girl, his interest was caught. For starters, this girl was light skinned and had an unusual hair colour for someone of the Middle East, so why the Templars were after a child who was from their own country, he did not know. He sort of ..._wanted _to know.

And the way she sprinted: hands uncurled and fingers streamline, head low, elbows sharp- Altair noticed she had been trained by similar techniques the assassins used.

He followed the Templars chasing Channelle around Masyaf, wanting to see what would happen next, but also with the intent to reveal himself and kill the enemies.

Channelle was cornered between a cliff-face and a two walls. There were four Templars blocking her escape.  
"We've got you now," growled the leader,"You have two options: come with us, or we gut you here and now."

"Where's the part where I send you to hell?" retorted the girl. The leader snarled and swung his sword down onto her. She dipped out of the way, grabbed his wrist and bent it in a painful way, which made him drop his heavy weapon. She kicked the back of his shins so he fell to the ground and she then booted him in the face, rendering him unconscious. She quickly picked up the sword and blocked a heavy blow from another attacker. She slammed her foot into his crotch, threw the sword at one of his comrades, scooped up dirt and chucked it at the last man's helmet and scrambled clumsily up one of the walls.

In a babble of shouting, the Templars followed her tracks, climbing up the wall and running across the rooftops.

Again, Channelle got to a dead end. Coincidentally, they were on top of a blacksmith and there were several scraps of metal spread out on the roof. She picked up a long, thin, sharp piece of metal, and attacked, bringing it down on the shoulder of a Templar. It managed to break the chainmail and he let out a cry of pain. She kicked him in the stomach and impaled him with her weapon. Little did she realize that as she was bent over, lowering the body of the dying soldier, the last remaining Templar was about to behead her.

Channelle turned around as she heard a strained groan. The dead Templar had a knife in his neck, blood quickly oozing from the wound. She swallowed, and she felt the apple churn inside her stomach. She began to back away slowly, alert and quite frightened, only to bump into someone.

She turned around to see a tall, well built man in a white robe and tunic with a red sash. It was Altair.

He had his hood up, hiding most of his face. Channelle wondered how he could see with it covering his eyes like that. He was also very heavily armed- a short sword was strapped to his back, and several throwing knives sat in sheaths on the big leather belt on his chest. He was equipped with a sword, too, but the thing which nerved her the most was the decorated bracer on his left forearm. He was lacking a ring finger on his left hand, and Channelle knew why. Her father had one of those- a hidden blade. He wore it all the time but never used it. Well, that's what he told her anyway.

"What's your name?" asked Altair. He spoke Arabic, but this wasn't a problem for Channelle.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, rather foolishly seeing how well-armed her 'saviour' was.

"I asked you a question. With me as your elder, and with the fact I just saved your life, it would be polite to reply. Do I have to ask again?"

Channelle's face dropped to a scowl,  
"Channelle. Your's?"

He sent her a sarcastic smile, and continued:  
"Come with me. I know someone who would be interested in you."

"Interested in me?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow, "Where are you from, a whore-house? Or...are you one of those 'monks' from the citadel?"

Altair ignored that first question,  
"...The word 'monks' wouldn't be appropriate . You could say that we're a brotherhood who follow their own..._.religion_, but monks we are not. Nearly the opposite, in fact."

"Opposite? So...vigilantes?"

"If you come with me, you will find out."

_Damn him._

Channelle narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. He did come from the place her father had told her to seek..._so it must be safe._

"Fine," she answered.

Altair gestured at her to come with him, before he began sprinting off. Channelle followed his lead, struggling to keep up.

* * *

**A/N This is a COMPLETE re-write of the fanfic I wrote in 2011. To those who've just joined me- Hello! ^_^ Okay.**

**Let me explain.**

**I finished writing this story in late 2012, so the sequel is already out. It's called 'Alliance'. I won't link you to it yet, but I will after I've modified it completely. In the meantime, if you want to read it, go ahead. But the start of it is quite poor with plenty of mistakes. I'm very insecure about my writing, see.**


	2. Brotherhood

Altair directed the girl up a steep, dusty, winding hill, which was almost tall enough to be a mountain. As they got higher up, there were less civilians and more hooded men. Some wore headscarves which hid nearly their whole face, others had their hoods down, and the rest wore bandannas. Channelle received a few questioning looks, but not as many as Altair, to her surprise. The stares he received could be considered astonishment.

"Um...sir?" piped up the girl, "Why are they looking at you like that?"

"Questions later, child."

They arrived at a pair of gates. A man was leaning against the wall with his arms folded; he was shorter than Altair, with short black hair and beard, and on his face he wore a sly smirk.

"Ahh, Altair. You've returned, have you?" he said, his brow raising at the sight of Channelle, "And who is this?"

"It's none of your business, Abbas," retorted Altair, a displeased look adorning his lips, "Move along. Now."

"Oh, but your business is everyone else's, remember?"

"Away with you, Abbas!"

The smug man smirked, and began to walk down the hill. He stopped for a moment and looked at Channelle,  
"Do not trust this man," he murmured. He glanced at Altair for a moment, and continued walking, nudging him with his shoulder as he went. Altair let out a low, quiet growl, and gestured for the girl to keep walking.

"Who was that?" asked Channelle.

"That's not for you to worry about right now." Channelle let out a noise of frustration. She didn't appreciate how...mysterious this man was being. It irritated her. She liked upfront honesty, not subtle riddles. She even considered telling this man how she felt about how secret he way being. _What was his job? Where was he taking her? Why isn't he answering any of my questions?_

They were now walking through a courtyard. There was a ring in the middle of the area where hooded men were clashing swords with each other, and there were more groups of hooded men who were skillfully fighting outside the ring, a small crowd of spectators watching each group. Again, the two walking through the courtyard received looks and stares. There were occasionally nudges and whispering as well, which began to get on Channnelle's nerves. Altair, on the other hand, found it easily to ignore so many pairs of eyes on him. It was as if he was used to being the center of attention.

No, it was if he_ enjoyed_ it.

Altair led her up a series of stone steps which gently spiraled into a building. Several stairs and endless amounts of corridors later, they reached a huge set of doors engraved with gold flowers and vines. Channelle could have stood there all day admiring the amazing craftsmanship, but Altair knocked three times on the wood and metal, also knocking her out of her small trance. There was a loud but gentle reply of:  
"Enter!"

The doors were opened by two servants wearing headscarves. There was a colossal room behind the doors; decorated with embroidered Prussian rugs, ornaments, shiny trinkets, at least three bookcases and a huge desk in front of a humongous window with a grand balcony behind it.

Behind that desk was an old man. One of his eyes were distorted and milky coloured, and he had a long white beard and white hair. He wore robes similar to all the other hooded men, except for the black over robe he he wore with pride.

He had previously been studying many pieces of parchment with images on them. He looked up, his one eye softening at the sight of Altair.

"Ah, Altair-" he noticed the girl, and confusion plastered his wise face, "Wha- Who is this?"

"Master," Altair bowed his head,"Her name is Channelle. I found her in Masyaf fighting off group of high ranking Templars-"

"-There are Templars in Masyaf?" the old man sounded panicked, "Altair? Are they gone?"

"Yes, she in fact, took care of most of them. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. She...she fights, runs, and climbs like an Assassin. I thought she would be of interest to you."

The man rose from his desk, and slowly paced towards and around Channelle, assessing her with his beady, judgmental eye.  
"What's your name, child?" he asked.

"Channelle."

"_Your name, child." _

"Channelle Talcard." Interest plastered the old man's face.

"Where are you from? England?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what...what brought you to Masyaf?"

"My father said that if anything were to happen to him, I should go to Masyaf and seek the monks in the citadel."

There was a pause, before the Master asked:

"Was your father Jonah?"

Channelle furrowed her brows,"Y-yes, how-"

"-Your father worked for me for about ten years. He was a good man, and a very skilled assassin who had good morals and a kind heart. He died recently, did he not? That's why you're here?"

"Yes- um, my apologies, but where am I? And what is this about Assassins?"

There was a chuckle,  
"Of course, of course. You must have a lot of questions. I am Al-Mualim, the Master of the Assassins in this citadel. This here is Altair, a Master at his skills. You are in Masyaf castle, and this is a training ground for assassins and assassin trainees."

"And why has Altair taken me here?"

"I have a feeling that he wanted me to recruit you. He is correct. I do. Would you join the Assassins, Channelle?"

Channelle blinked at him, unsure what to think,  
"I'm sorry?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"Uh- no, I'm just a little surprised." She swallowed nervously, "Alright. I will join the Assassins. I have nowhere else to go, so I might as well."

Al-Mualim claps his hands together and beams,  
"Excellent! You will begin as a Novice, but I am sure you will climb the ranks almost as quickly as Altair did. Speaking of whom..." he looked at Altair, who had a mildly displeased look on his face,"You will be her mentor. I am far to old and too busy to train anyone. I can only teach them the readings, but I am not as spry as I used to be. Are you fine with that?"

Altair cleared his throat, quickly glancing at Channelle,  
"I see no problem with that."

"Good. You are dismissed. Oh, and show her to her room, Altair!"

Altair bowed and gestured for Channelle to exit before him. They were halfway down the stairs when he pushed her against the wall and locked his eyes on hers. Channelle let out a noise of surprise,  
"Hey- wha-"

Her mouth was covered by a leather-gloved hand. Channelle could finally see his eyes and discovered they were similar to her own: hazel mixed with green and golds. The intense glare he was sending her sent uncomfortable shivers down her spine, and she actually felt a prickle of fear.

"-Listen to me," growled Altair, his voice low and threatening,"I am only going to be your mentor because my Master told me to. If it were my choice, I wouldn't even bother with someone like you. You're skilled already, so hopefully you won't be as irritating as one of those other Novices, but you seem to have a tongue which is hard for you to control. You will obey my every command _without_ question. Do you understand?"

Channelle glared at him, prying his hand off her mouth.

"I understand." She shoved him off her, still holding her glare.

"Your room is this way. Follow without talking."

"I know the queue, Altair," she muttered bravely. Altair simply growled at her and continued walking.

* * *

If there was one thing Channelle had learned in her first hour as a Novice at Masyaf castle, is that the facility was huge. Altair led her on a ten minute walk through different corridors and passage ways. The room Altair showed her to was a good ten minutes away from Al-Mualim's study.

"This is your chambers," said Altair, pointing at the door, "This is where you'll sleep and spend your spare time, but hopefully you will spend your spare time doing something productive or in relation to your training. Be awake by sunrise or the consequences will be harsh."

"Alright, alright..."

"Rethink your tone."

Channelle groaned a sigh and shook her head. Altair left her alone standing in her chambers. It was a wide space in a sort of rectangular shape, with a framed bed, a desk, and a dresser with a bowl and mirror. An aged Persian rug sat upon the dusty stone floor.

_It could be worse..._

**Meanwhile, in the citadel's gardens**

Altair sat on a bench, one which was out of sight behind some bushes. It was one of his favourite private places to go when he needed a breather from everyone else. Come to think of it, it was one of the only places he could go to hide away. He did have his chambers to go to, but it was always considerably hotter than outside in there, and the air got cooler in the late afternoon (which was something he liked).

_So now I have student. A mouthy, rebellious, arrogant _female _student._

Altair sighed, pushing his hood off his head, and rubbing his dark brown hair stressfully. He did not like the idea of having a student. Not at all. He would have to _care _for the child, and the problem was that every time he cared about someone, it ended badly for the both of them. Either the person in question ended up dead, or disowning him.

He was not looking forward to training Channelle. But what choice did he have? It was a direct order from Al-Mualim, and Altair never dreamed of disobeying his master.

* * *

**Channelle's POV**

There was series of violent knocking at my door which awoke me with a start, followed by the loud Arabic shout of "_Yallah bent_! Get up! Get up!"

Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed.  
"Bit early..." I grumbled. I looked out my window and groaned again. It wasn't even light yet. I noticed that in my open dresser drawers were several items of clothing. There was also a bowl of steaming water on the top of the dresser, as well as a haircomb and a few hairties.

_Hm. One of the servant girls must have been in here. That was nice of them._

I hobbled over to the bowl and scrubbed my face down. I stripped down and splashed some water on my body- it felt good to (nearly) be clean again. I reached into the drawers and pulled out a beige tunic, grey trousers, and a weapons belt with a fastener in the shape of the Assassin's insignia. I fixed my hair into a bun-letting my bangs down-, dried my face with the with the cloth provided, and left my chambers.

* * *

I saw a bunch of Assassins (Novices, by the looks of their attire) head from the corridor my room was in and into large room decked out with benches. The food hall, I deduced. I hesitantly entered the hall and joined the line to get food. I earned a few stares, nudges and whispers, but I ignored them. I collected my dates, bread and cup of water and sat over on the abandoned bench in the very far corner of the hall. I kept my head down and ate my food without looking at anyone.

* * *

As I left the hall and headed into the courtyard, I froze.

_Where was I supposed to meet Altair? Did he even say?_

"Um, excuse me," I said, to a passing Assassin. "Do you know Altair?"

He snorted,  
"Altair? Who doesn't?" he said, darkening. He looked at me, and the questioning look reminded me of an owl,"Why do you want to know?"

"He's my mentor, and he told me to meet him this morning but he didn't say where."

The Assassin raised his eyebrow, "Altair has a student? A personal student? Well this is rich!" He laughed.

"I'm sorry?"

"Altair is an arrogant bastard who never considers others; now he has a student. I am sorry in advance if he puts you through hell, child."

"A-ah."

"I'll lead you to his favourite hiding spots, if you like?" he suggested, "To see if he is there?"

I nodded,

"Yes, thank you."

We walked across the courtyard and through the passage which led to the gardens. The gardens were beautiful. The grass was lush, and a stream trickled through and around the whole garden. A balcony overlooked the whole area. _How nice it would be to sit up there on especially sunny days._

"So how come Altair has a student anyway?" the Assassin asked me.

"I was wandering around Masyaf when Templars attacked me and I fought them. Altair happened to be watching."

"And he took an interest to you?"

"It seems so."

There was a pause, and he looked around for a few moments, squinting his eyes in a corner which was hidden by plants.

"Oh look, I think that's him..." he said. He looked at me,"I never caught your name."

"My name's Channelle. Channelle Talcard."

He bowed his head,  
"My name is Malik Al-Sayf. Do you want me to escort you to him? Altair has a reputation of being..._frightening._.."

I laughed,  
"Please, if you could."

"Not an issue, child."

He began walking over to the patch of plants,  
"Altair!" he called, "Come out of your hiding place. You have seemed to have lost your student. Really, that's very irresponsible of you!"

Altair poked through the plants, a scowl wearing his face,

"Malik," he said, dismissing him with his expression. Malik set him with a glower for a moment, before saying:

"I'll leave you two in peace. I have to find Kadar. The boy needs to be trained..." said Malik, turning to go elsewhere.

Altair glared at him until he was out of sight, before his stare went onto me. He appeared to be somewhat annoyed.

"You're late," he chided.

"First of all, I don't know my way around this massive castle," I said, scowling at him, "And second, you never said where to meet you! How am I to k-"

"-As an Assassin," Altair cut me off, "You have to learn how to stalk your targets. Think of me as your target during your training. Your navigating and tracking skills will evolve that way. As for finding your way around the citadel- the only places you're not allowed to access as a novice are the Apprentice, Soldier, Mercenary, Warrior and Master Common rooms, which are all on the very top floors of the castle."

"Seems simple enough," I mumbled.

"It is. Now, I need to teach you the basics of being an Assassin. The Assassins live by following the Creed, which has three tenants which we have to obey. First: you must stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent; second: hide in plain sight; and third: _do not compromise the Brotherhood. _These are extremely important. Remember them. If they have to be repeated to you, it is most likely you are in grave trouble. Another thing to remember: nothing is true, everything is permitted. Non nobis, domine, non nobis. "

I murmured the Creed under my breath several times, imprinting it into my mind.

"Non nobiss? Domeene, no nobbies?" I checked. Altair gave me an annoyed look,

"You'll recognise it when you hear it."

"Question," I said, "Why are we training in the gardens, instead of the courtyard?"

"Do you want the others to gawp at you because of your mentor and your gender?"

"No, but I might as well let them get used to me."

"It's quieter here. I decide where we work. Do not question my choices."

"Alright, alright. My _deepest apologies, sir._"

Altair mumbled something presumably insulting under his breath.

* * *

After the long lecture about the many ways to kill someone (and several demonstrations), he retrieved me a sword in a sheath which clipped onto my belt. The first thing which came into mind when I drew my new weapons was : s_hit, this is heavy. _

The sword was as heavy as medium-sized rock.

My task was to practice drawing the sword without any faults.

"What's the matter?" sneered Altair, obviously finding entertainment in my attempts to flawlessly draw my sword without getting it caught on my clothes or belt. "Is it too heavy for you? We can practice with wooden swords, if you like. We use them to train the younger recruits."

"No, I can manage." I drew my sword for the fortieth time, but this time it didn't get caught on anything. "Aha! I did it!"

"Yes, but by now, your opponent would have easily knocked you down due to your bad posture. Like so." He used the hilt of his sword to hit me in the shoulder, and I fell backwards forcefully onto my buttocks. My sword hit my shin as I dropped it in surprise and gravity worked with it.

"Shhhitt!" I moaned, slowly pulling myself up and rubbing my foot on my painful shin. I looked up at Altair, who had a smug smirk on his face. I frowned, and brushed the dust off my backside. I then picked up my sword and put my head up, as if my stumble had been nothing. "I'm fine."

"Clearly."

"When do we actually engage in combat?" I asked, dismissing the sarcastic response. "So far, it's just been hours of lectures and demonstrations and taking my sword out of its sheath!"

"They are all important parts of the training process. But if you insist on combat...it'll be hand-to-hand."

"That's not fair! What about the swo-" his glare cut me off. I sighed, placing my sword back where it belonged. It was really heavy on my hip, and I stumbled sideways a little.

Altair positioned himself, standing with his legs shoulder-width apart and his arms relaxed by his sides. I took a breath out, readying myself for whatever was to come. _He'd probably use this opportunity to beat the living daylights out of me_, I thought bitterly.

"Rooh!" he commanded, yet he didn't attack first. I decided to make the first move. However, something in his eyes changed as I swung my fist at his torso. He suddenly grabbed my moving arm and held me by the shoulder. He pushed my arm and shoulder downwards so I was bent over painfully. _He was going to win if I didn't do anything. _

Using my free fist, I punched him hard between the legs. _And I mean hard. _He released his grip on my arm gasping and I straightened my back, kneeing him in (again) the crotch, then in the face. He fell back, breathless.  
"That," he gasped, obviously in pain, "was an extremely dirty and basic trick!"

I grinned at him, offering my hand to help him up. He waved it away, standing up .  
"I underestimated you," he said, still recovering from my attack. "Maybe I have to be harsher on you."

"I look forward to it, _mentor._"

* * *

**A/N**

**I re-wrote the re-write of this because there were too many errors for me to be proud of. I hope you like it c: Remember to review, and I'll keep writing.**

**Translations:**

**Yallah bent!- Hurry up girl! **

**Rooh!- Go.**


	3. Training

I was awakened the next morning to a less vigorous knocking. An unfamiliar voice shouted from the other side called:

"Novice, awake! Your training starts in ten minutes! Meet me in the courtyard."

It seemed I'd overslept, so there was no time for breakfast. Sighing sleepily, I sat up in my bed, feeling the warmth of the sun flooding through the window on my face. I rubbed at my head, and stood up, reaching out for my trousers.

* * *

Running as fast as I could, I darted through the corridors, being careful not to bump into anyone. I received a few hisses and curses on my family, but I ignored them. I had only thirty seconds to reach whoever woke me up in the morning. I reached the courtyard to find an assassin wearing a headscarf folding his arms by the fighting ring, eyeing me with mild displeasure.

"You were almost late, Novice," he chided. Panting, I crouched over, resting my palms on my knees.

"I-I know..." I managed, "I'm sorry...I didn't know...who I was looking...for...Gah!"

"You shouldn't be out of breath. You didn't have to run that far." There was a few moments of silence between us as I tried to catch my breath.

"Will all due respect, sir," I tried, "I ran at full speed." He made a 'tch' noise with his tongue, and he waved his hand at me in disregard.

"You are an Assassin and you have to have good stamina. I'll let Altair know that's something he needs to work on with you." _Oh great. _

"Speaking of whom...where _is _Altair?" I asked.

"He is on an important mission for the Master with Malik and Kadar Al-Sayf. _Bismallah_..." he sighed, "Malik had better not let Altair act brashly..." He shook his head, shaking the thought away from him. His eyes placed back on mine, "Anyway. My name is Yasir. I am your stand-in mentor until Altair returns. We'll be working on your swordsmanship, seeing as Altair wasn't pleased with what you had to offer yesterday." He turned around to a wooden wrack of swords and I scowled at his back at the comment. He retrieved two swords and threw one at me, which I thankfully caught.

"Raviv! Taala hona!" Yasir called, and a young man wearing Novice robes jogged over to us. He gave me a quick, judging glance, before bowing his head to Yasir.

"Yes, mentor?"  
Yasir put the sword in his arm.

"Spar with her. Show her what you can do."

I could tell Raviv was trying to fight back a scornful laugh. He bowed his head again,  
"Of course."

My scowl getting darker by the second, I followed Raviv into the fighting ring. They obviously saw me as some sort of joke. _Altair's student- not only that, Altair's preteen female student! Altair's English female preteen student who he'd picked up from the streets homeless and orphaned! Oh, this was a great source of entertainment _

Raviv readied himself, holding his sword up. I did the same and we waited for Yasir to give the command to start fighting. In my mind, I was racing over a few techniques my father had taught me when I was younger. I wasn't_ bad_ at sword fighting...if the swords weren't so damn heavy I'd be an expert. But the longswords the Assassins used were (obviously) lengthy and heavy.

"Fight!"

Raviv smirked at me, beginning to stepped slowly to the right,

"_Let's put you in your place, child,_" he hissed, smugly.

"Don't act like you're above me," I growled, "We're both Novices. Gender and age don't determine someone's worth."

"Oh really? But with higher age and male gender comes wisdom and strength."

"Of which you show neither."

He growled at me, finally making an attack. He used a strike downwards, which I decided to dodge. I didn't want to risk using up most of my strength on the first blow. He quickly lunged to jab my side, which I only just avoided. I made an attempt to hit his shoulder, but he blocked my attack and hit me around the face. As I stumbled backwards, dazed, he crashed his weapon downwards which I only just managed to block. Suddenly the air was knocked out of me as he kicked me hard in the gut. I fell on my arse, and he pointed his sword at my throat. I glared at him, my chest heaving.

"You were saying?" he grinned.

"Well done, Raviv," congratulated Yasir,"Channelle. I know what you need to improve on. Stand up! Go again!"

I groaned loudly, burying my head in my hands.

* * *

_Two weeks. Two darn weeks_ I spent being humiliated and challenged by other Assassins just because it amused them. I only won about two or three of my fights, but the rest I lost miserably. It wasn't at all fair to make a small eleven year old fight twenty year old plus trained assassins- in no universe was that fair! It was so awful that I actually _wanted _Altair to come back. Where was he? Jerusalem? It took around five days to get there from Masyaf. What was taking him so long?

I later found out why.

It was around midday, and I was on my free period. I hung around under a wooden shelter on a rooftop in the village. The sun was at its hottest, and nearly everyone in the village was indoors staying safe of the intense heat, so it was quiet and peaceful.

My whole body ached from the running exercise I had to do not that long ago- from around sunrise to lunch time, I had to run up and down the mountain continuously. The man I met when Altair first took me to the castle, Abbas, found it quite amusing to watch me as he was on guard duty. I had to try and refrain from smacking him because of the snide remarks he'd made.

I was hungry, I was tired and I was hot. All I wanted to do was sleep in the cool shaded area of that rooftop. Lying under that shelter was the only real relaxation I'd had in a week, and all I could do was savour the free time I had.

I heard the distant sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground at a fast pace, before it slowed down and disappeared completely. I heard a familiar clinking sound- the sound Altair's gear made as he walked.

I poked my head out of the shelter to see the man in question quickly making his way to the well which sat at the heart of the village. He sat on the base of it, and washed his face and drank. His robes were grubby and there were blood stains splattered on the once-white material. Something didn't seem right. Something was different. Something was _wrong._

Another Assassin jogged over to him and greeted him, but instead of scornfully like how many others would, he appeared happy and honoured- like a puppy around its master. Altair straightened his posture, and responded to this Assassin normally, as if nothing had happened. I listened in, trying to catch what was going on:

"...I trust the mission was a success?"

Altair tried to avoid answering this question,  
"...I-Is the Master in his tower?"

"Yes, yes ah- buried in his books as always..."

From there, they spoke too quietly for me to hear from where I was. Altair bowed his head lightly, and began heading up the mountain. Curious, I followed him, making sure to keep out of his sight. He seemed hurried and shifty, as if he didn't want anyone to see him. He quickly made his way up the mountain, before confronting Abbas.

"Ah..." Abbas marveled, "He returns at last."

"_Abbas." _Altair spat his name out like it was a foul tasting fruit.

_"_What about the others? Did you ride ahead hoping to be the first one back? I know you are loathe to share the glory."

Altair was silent, so Abbas added:  
"Silence is just another form of assent."

"Have you nothing better to do?" sighed Altair.

"I bring word from the Master. He waits for you in the library..." he leaned into Altair, who moved away from him, the look of disgust on his face. "_Best hurry._ No doubt you're eager to put your tongue to his boot."

"Another word and I'll put my blade to your throat," hissed Altair.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later..._brother..." _

Altair grunted and ran past him. I went to jog after him, but Abbas held my shoulder, halting me.

"Ah, we have a spy here, do we?" he smirked.

"Hardly." I pushed off his hand, "I'm just curious."

"Careful not to get into trouble, and be sure to tell me the details." (I spared the man a snort). "I've seen that look on his face before...he's got something to hide. I expect he's failed his mission."

"We'll see," I said. I continued on with my journey to stalk Altair to the library.

* * *

The library was placed above the main entrance of the castle. I stood in the archway, listening out for voices. I couldn't go any further without getting myself caught.

I could hear Al-Mualim asking Altair about his mission, and at first, he sounded hopeful. But then Altair began explaining himself:

_"I have failed you."_

_"The treasure?"_

_"Lost to us."_

_"And Robert?"_

_"Escaped."_

There was a tense silence for one or two moments, before Al-Mualim's voice began to rise angrily:

"_I send you- my best man- to complete a mission more important than any that has come before...and you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses!"_

_"I did-"_

"-Do not speak!_ Not another word. This is not what I expected. We'll need to mount another force."_

_"I swear to you, I'll find him. I'll go and-"_

_"-No! You do nothing. You've done enough..."_

he paused, "..._Where are Malik and Kadar?"_

My heart started speeding up. I'd forgotten that those brothers had gone with him..._please say they were alright..._

_"Dead."_

A wave of sadness washed over me and there was a sinking feeling in my gut. Suddenly there was a cry, which distracted me from my grief:

"_No! Not dead..."_

_"Malik?" _surprise painted Al-Mualim's voice.

_"I still live at least!"_

_"And your brother?"_

_"Gone...BECAUSE OF YOU!"_

His pained voice echoed about the library.

_"Robert threw me from the room," Altair tried, "There was no way back! Nothing I could do-"_

_"BECAUSE YOU WOULD NOT HEED MY WARNING!"_

The volume of his voice alerted the Assassins training in the ring, and nearly everyone was silent, also listening out to what was happening. "_ALL OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED! And my brother... my brother would still be alive! Your arrogance nearly cost us victory today."_

_"Nearly?" questioned Al-Mualim, keenly._

_"I've brought what your _favourite _failed to find. Here. Take it. And it seems I've returned with more than just their treasure..."_

There was yelling and the sound of weapons being readied and drawn. There were the screams and cries of children and women coming from below the mountain...the sound of death. I looked around, confused. _Were we under attack? What was going on?_

A turbaned messenger pushed past me, apologising under his breath, and ran up the stairs to the library where Al-Mualim and the others were.  
"_Master_!" he cried, breathlessly, "_We are under attack! Robert lays siege to Masyaf's village!"  
_

_"So he seeks a battle? Very well. I will not deny him. Go. Inform the others. The fortress must be prepared. As for you, Altair...Our discussion must have to wait.-"  
_

I jumped as Yasif grabbed my shoulder,  
"Channelle," he said, "You must go to your chambers. It isn't safe for you to be out here. Go. Now."

"Surely I can help?"

"No. You are only a Novice and a child. Go to your chambers, and await until further instruction."

I sighed,  
"Yes, sir."

I began running in the direction of the East wing of the castle, and I happened to literally crash into a rushed Altair. He went to send me a glare but it softened when he saw that it was me.

"Altair," I said, "Wh-"

"-You were told to go to your chambers, child," he said, his voice low, "Do as you're told."

"But-"

"-Go."

I sighed, before murmuring: "It's good to have you back, Mentor..."

He stared at me for a moment in disbelief, before rushing off into rushing crowd of Assassins. I stand there, gripping at my fists stressfully for a few seconds. Then, I continued on with my journey to my chambers.

* * *

**A/N Translations:**

**Taala hona- come here!**


	4. Shock

**A/N thank you for the lovely reviews, but I'd appreciate it if I got a couple more? c: **

**This chapter's target: 5. **

**And to the anon who asked: My profile picture is of Alucard from the anime Hellsing Ultimate. I also write a fic for that so I suggest you to check it out c;;;**

* * *

**Altair's POV**

I looked back as she ran in the direction of her chambers. _She'd missed me?_

I shook my head in disbelief, and continued jogging my way to the gates of the fortress. I found Yasir sprinting up the to the gates from up the mountain with his men. It appeared as if he wanted to talk to me because of the frantic arm-flicking, and indeed he did.

"Altair!" he exclaimed, out of breath, "It's good you've come!"

"What happened?" I asked, my heart speeding up in angst at the sound of screaming coming from the village below.

"Templars are here!" (_You don't say_) "They attacked the village. Most were able to get away...most...But not all... " He shook his head in remorse. I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly,

"What do you need me to do?"

"Distract the Templars," he instructed, "Keep them occupied whilst I rescue those still trapped inside."

"As you wish."

He nodded his head, and led his men down the mountain. I also sped down the spiral of the mountain, only to then take a short cut by leaping off a cliff edge into a bale of hay. I landed not as softly as I'd hoped, but I quickly recovered and sprinted in the direction of the Templars attacking villagers and Assassins. I drew my longsword, gritting my teeth in anger. _These filth would have to perish for what they'd done._

* * *

After managing to take care of the dozen Templars fairly quickly without taking any damage, I took a moment to consider my fallen brothers. There were dozens of Assassins lying still, scattered about the vllage, pools of blood still seeping out of their injuries. There were way too many white-robed bodies lying around. They died because _I_ brought the enemy here. _They were dead because of me, just like Kadar_.

This was all my fault, and something in my gut told me I would have to pay for this.

I would have to pay dearly.

* * *

**Channelle's POV**

There was a sudden silence which was somewhat eerie. The sound of swords clashing and pained cries were no longer audible, and I wasn't sure this was something to be relieved or worried about. My eagerness to know what was going on got too much for me to handle, and I left my chambers.

I made my way down the many corridors out of the East wing of the fortress, and into the courtyard. The main gates were bolted shut and I heard the sound of clicking chainmail and murmuring horses.

I also heard the subtle hubbub of many people talking, and I followed it. I climbed up the steps to the front keep where a group of Assassins were gathered behind Al-Mualim, looking over the wall where there was a large bunch of heavily armed Templars behind a very angry looking bald man wearing a cape. Wait, was that...?

_This man was Robert de-Sable. He was the one who'd killed my father and __the one who sent his men to kill me. _A sick feeling arose in my stomach at the sight of the man.

"HERETIC! RETURN BACK WHAT YOU HAVE FROM ME!" Robert yelled in his heavy French accent. He didn't seem very happy.

"You've not claim to it, Robert!" Al-Mualim responded,"Take yourself away from here before I'm forced to thin your ranks further!"

"YOU PLAY A DANGEROUS GAME!"

"I assure you, _this is no game_."

"SO BE IT! BRING FORTH THE HOSTAGE!"

A bound Assassin was shoved forwards. Was that...? No...it couldn't be... _it was. _Yasir. He didn't yell, he didn't shout, he just silently let himself get exposed. Suddenly, a soldier grabbed his soldier and impaled him from behind. The sword went straight through him and he let out a straggled cry of pain, dropping to the floor dead.

No-one flinched. No-one moved_. What was wrong with these people?_

"_Yasir_!" I cried, rushing forward, but someone pulled me back, shushing me. I ignored him, writhing in his grip. "_Yasir,_ _no! Yasir-"_

-"_Quiet, girl_," the voice belonged to Raviv,"There's nothing that can be done for him." He continued to hold me back, but loosened his grip a little, humming some Middle-Eastern tune in my ear quietly to calm me down.

"YOUR VILLAGE LAYS IN RUINS," the French Templar shouted,"AND YOUR STORES ARE HARDLY ENDLESS. HOW LONG BEFORE YOUR FORTRESS CRUMBLES FROM WITHIN? HOW DISCIPLINED WILL YOUR MEN REMAIN WHEN YOUR WELLS RUN DRY AND YOUR FOOD IS GONE?

"My men do not fear death, Robert!" retorted the Master of Assassins,"They _welcome _it and the rewards it brings!"

"GOOD! THEN THEY SHOULD HAVE IT ALL AROUND! "

Al-Mualim looked up to the right battlement tower, where three Assassins standing on planks of wood which produced from the structure.

"Show this fool knight what it is to have no fear!" he called up to the men, "Go to God!"

At exactly the same time, all of the Assassins leaped elegantly from each plank. Suddenly, there was the cry of a man, but it quickly faded out. I clenched my fists tightly, gritting my teeth in frustration.

"Don't worry, everything's fine," Raviv murmured,"They are going to unleash the trap- calm down, Channelle. You're shaking."

"I-I can't help it..."

There was a sudden rumbling sound and then confused shouting. I looked over the wall and saw logs and tree bows crashing down onto the Templars below.

"FALL BACK, FALL BACK!" commanded Robert. The Templars which weren't crushed scrambled away untidily in fear of being squashed by huge tree trunks. The whole ordeal was somewhat comical.

"Go back to business," Al-Mualim instructed, turning to leave. He took a glance at me, his expression full of disappointment, before walking away.

* * *

**Around ten minutes later **

Al-Mualim decided to confront Altair about his behaviour publicly in the courtyard in front of everyone, perhaps to humiliate him, perhaps to commend him. It wasn't clear yet. The ordeal earned an interested crowd of Novices and trainers, who all stood around to watch. I sat on the fencing of the fighting ring, next to Raviv, who had stayed with me since the attack. It seemed that we were friends now.

"Are you alright now?" he checked. I nodded,

"I think so..." I replied, "But..Yasir...he's gone. Just like that. I just can't...can't get over..."

"Death is a large part of being an Assassin, child. Sentiment is a weakness here." I sighed, and he patted my shoulder comfortingly. The murmuring gossip of the Assassins hushed as Altair came forward to meet the Master.

"You did well to drive Robert from here," Al-Mualim praised,"His force is broken. It should be a long while before he troubles us again. Tell me...do you know why it is you were successful?" There was silence, so he answered it himself. "_You listened_. Were it that you'd listened in Solomon's Temple, Altair, all of this would have been avoided."

"I did as I was asked," Altair said bravely.

"No, you did as you pleased! Malik has told me of the arrogance you displayed, your disregard for our ways. " Two guards lunged for Altair's arms, restraining him. This obviously confused Altair, and he squirmed in their grip:

"What are you doing?" he demanded, trying to wriggle free. He soon gave up and hung his head in shame.

"There are rules," said Al-Mualim,"We mean nothing if we do not abide by the Assassin's Creed. Three simple tenets, which you seem to forget-" he made a grab for Altair's face, lifting it to force him to look at him,"_I will remind you._ First and foremost, stay your blade-"

"-From the flesh of an innocent," interrupted Altair, "_I know_." He let out a quiet grunt as his Master smacked him around the face.

"_And stay your tongue_," hissed Al-Mualim, "unless I give you leave to use it. If you are so familiar with this tenant then why did you kill the old man inside the Temple? He was innocent! He did not need to die. Your insolence knows no bounds. Make humble your heart, child...or I swear I'll tear it out with my own hands..."

He took a moment to calm himself down, before carrying on: "The second tenet is one which gives us strength. Hide in plain sight. Let the people mask you such that you become one with the crowd. Do you remember? Because as I hear it, you chose to expose yourself, drawing attention _before_ you'd struck!"

He let this sink in, pacing about silently with his hands clasped behind his back for a couple of moments. I looked at Altair, who had his face still smarted to the side from the smack- or was he just ashamed? It was hard to tell.

"The third and final tenet," continued Al-Mualim, "the worst of all your betrayals...never compromise the brotherhood. Its meaning should be obvious. Your actions should never bring harm upon us- direct or indirect. Yet your selfish act beneath Jerusalem placed us all in danger. Worse still, you brought the enemy to our home._ Every man we lost today was lost because of you_!"

There was the sound of a dagger being drawn and this made Altair jerk his head up. He appeared panicked when he saw the Master with the weapon, approaching him.

"I am sorry, I truly am," said Al- Mualim, looking at his dagger,"But I cannot abide a traitor."

"I am _not _a traitor!" Altair seemed certain of this. He began desperately squirming in his captors' grips without success as Al- Mualim neared him with the dagger.

"Your actions indicate otherwise, and so you leave me no choice...Peace be upon you Altair." His arm lunged forwards and Altair let out a howl, doubling up before collapsing.

"No!" I screamed, jumping down from the fence and rushing to the scene. I glared at Al- Mualim. "Hasn't there been enough death today?"

"I must say, Channelle," Al-Mualim said,"The behaviour you've shown lately has not been ideal."

"You just killed my mentor!"

Al-Mualim sighed, and showed me the dagger- there wasn't any blood on it. I looked at Altair and noticed that no fresh blood stained his white robes.  
"He saw only what he thought he saw. Control your emotions, child." He made a gesture for the two guards to follow him with Altair's sleeping body, leaving me standing there gawping in confusion. Raviv came over to me, patting me on the shoulder, chuckling,

"He's done this many times, Channelle," he explained, "No one expects it, so their bodies go into shock."

"That...that is not alright!" I yelled, stomping my foot childishly. Raviv laughed again, burying his face in his palm.

"Oh, Channelle," he laughed, "You have _so _much to learn."

I blushed in embarrassment, looking down at my feet.  
"I feel so stupid..." I mumbled.

"Think nothing of it. Come, let us spar." He threw me a sword and drew his own.

"I'm...not in the mood."

"It doesn't matter if you are not in the mood or not, child. It is your training."

"You're not my mentor, Raviv."

"Yasir was your temporary mentor. I'll take his place."

I laughed, "You're a Novice like me! How do you ex-"

"-My ranks were hired today, Channelle. Any rank, aside from Novice, are allowed to take a maximum of five students under their wing." I glowered at him and he chuckled again at my expression.

"You sir," I grumbled, readying my weapon "Are an arse."

He attempted to strike me in my side, but I reflected his heavy attack. I grunted, feeling my wrists click. He repeated the same move but on the opposite side and he almost caught me out.  
"Jesus Christ, Raviv!" I cursed loudly. He laughed, making a jab for my chest. Once again, I caught his attack but only just.

"You're getting wiser, Novice!" praised Raviv. I growled at him, making my own attack, trying to catch him off guard. It didn't work, and he kicked me to the ground, his foot slamming into my stomach hard. I gasped for breath as I hit the ground. Raviv smiled at me, offering me his hand but I waved it away.

"I can pull myself up..."

"You sound like Altair," joked Raviv.

"Shut up!"


	5. Acre

_A week later._

Raviv had allowed me to take a long break after a while of hard combat training. He was almost as tough as Yasir ...it surprised me. He was so skilled yet apparently nowhere near as skilled as some of the other Assassins in the Brotherhood. In a way, that frightened me._ The skills of some Assassins must be somewhat supernatural rather than human... Could I ever get near that level of skill?_

I was stretched out, hidden in the cover of some bushes in the gardens. I knew this was Altair's hiding place but I didn't think I'd be seeing him any time soon, so I doubted that he'd mind. Speaking of whom, I hadn't spoken to him, or even seen him, for days. I heard that Al-Mualim had demoted him and sent him on some Novice mission in order to earn back his ranks. "_Cruel but fair_," Raviv had said. As for the Master...well. He'd been seeming quite restless and anxious. Something large was bothering him and it showed whilst he took his strolls around the citadel.

The training was exhausting. I barely got eight hours sleep each night and I had to get up even earlier if I wanted to get breakfast first. For a Brotherhood whose members were supposed to love and respect one another, a lot of my so called "brothers" still sneered and snorted as I walked past them. Even though I ignored them and tried to appear not bothered by them, they still made me feel intimidated and eager to just shovel my food down my throat and leave. The teen Novices were especially rude, and even tried to trip me up on one or two occasions. I liked to get into the breakfast hall before most of the others so I could eat in peace.

"Channelle?" a familiar voice questioned, interrupting my trail of thoughts. I looked up past the leaves and saw a hooded man peering down at me, mild confusion on his face. _Altair._

"_Altair_!" I exclaimed happily, standing up in the presence of my mentor. He just stared at me and I smiled nervously, rubbing the back of my head. "Oh right...sorry. I'm in your hiding place."

"No...it's not that..." he said, still a little confused, "It's the fact you actually seem pleased to see me."

I let out a little laugh, "Heh...I suppose I am..."

Altair paused for a moment, processing the situation, but then shook his head and sighed.

"I have orders from the Master," he continues with what he originally going to say, "You're still going to be my student... and that means you have to assist me with my missions."

"What?"

"You have to ass-"

"-Yes, I heard that part, I'm just confused." I furrowed my brows.

"Al-Mualim will be setting me targets for me to kill and I have to find them and remove them from the earth. So far...I've killed one. A man named Tamir."

"Who's next?"

"A maddened doctor known as Garnier de Naplouse, also the Grand Master of the Knight's Hospitalier. We ride for Acre tomorrow. Make sure you pack enough for five or six days."

I made a face, and he pulled a displeased expression. "What?"

"A six day ride..." I grumbled.

"Yes."

"With you..."

"Yes."

"How ... e_xciting..._"

"And I actually thought you were pleased to see me, Channelle."

* * *

I was woken up earlier than usual the next morning. It was still dark when I opened my eyes to the sound of a servant girl knocking at my door.

"Miss, Altair says for you to awake," the gentle girl says, poking her head around the door. I sat up, grunting. I rubbed at my eyes and thanked her for the water and food supplies she brought me, before pulling myself up from my bed.

* * *

I met my Mentor by the stables. He was already packed and ready, his bags tightly tied onto his stallion. He petted his steed's bobbing head almost adoringly, as if he really cared for the beast.

"Good morning..." I mumbled sleepily, my bags lazily slung on one shoulder. Altair pulled out another horse from the stables- a brown Arabian male- and handed me the reins. "This is Anis. Mine is Harith." Altair literally snatched my bags out of my possession and started fastening them to my ride. Anis sniffed and nibbled at my hair whilst Altair did his work and I giggled, pushing his face away.

"Are you ready?" Altair asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good. Mount."

He mounted his steed flawlessly, but I had a bit of trouble. My foot got caught in the stirrup and I tripped and fell onto my face because Anis moved away. I heard Altair sigh and he hopped down from Harith and without warning, hauled me up by the belt onto Anis. I let out a shriek of surprise as I was lifted up only to find a leather saddle lodged uncomfortably between my legs.

"Quiet, girl!" snapped Altair.

"Next time you maneuver a woman onto a horse, give her some warning first!" I hissed. Altair rolled his eyes before mounting Harith once again. We trotted rather pleasantly to Masyaf gates, my mentor leading the way, before he suddenly commanded:

"_Yallah_!" forcing both of our rides to start galloping

* * *

It would take around 2-3 days to get to Acre. It was incredibly boring just riding for hours at at time without breaks. When we did take breaks, they were too long and also grew quite boring.

_I was in a lot of pain, my thighs and groin were hurting like a whore from the hours of endless riding. Altair watched me in mild amusement as I lunged around, stretching out my legs, in an attempt to get rid of the cramps._

_"Having trouble?" he smirked. I glared at him,_

_"How are you not in pain?" I asked, "I feel like I work at a whorehouse!"_

_"You grow used to it." He crosses his legs as if to prove a point and my glare darkens._

Setting up the shelter for the night was more stressful than it should have been, but once that was out of the way, the evening was actually quite relaxing. The temperature had cooled down considerably and the flickering fire set a nice, peaceful scene. We had our mats and sleeping apparatus inside the shelter Altair mostly built. Our horses were already sleeping, huffing quietly through their noses. Altair would just sit there, doodling in the sand with a stick. It was rather awkward because no words were being said. I wanted to think of questions to ask him but none came to mind...

* * *

Thankfully, it only took two days to get to Acre. Two days of heat, little food, and Altair being his distant self. _Something was different about Altair. Don't get me wrong, he was still rude and sarcastic, but he seemed more cautious in a way. _

Acre...was not a pleasant place. We rode our horses through the gates, paid a stable boy, and took to the rooftops in the heavily Templar-occupied city. The whole place reeked of death and human waste. There weren't any charming market places, or any charming people, for that matter. The homeless stumbled about, grabbing people and harassing them for a little coin. Barely-clothed whores dressed in thin, see-through coloured cloth stood in clumps in street corners, obviously drunk and rather catty.

"Pay attention and keep up," scolded Altair, "Ignore them."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the Assassins Bureau to receive my marker." He jumped onto the roof of another building. I doubtfully eyed the gap but leaped and landed heavily, my feet buckling under my weight. Altair sighed in frustration, dragging me up.

"And where is the Assassin's Bureau?" I questioned.

"Over here."

"Where-?"

Altair suddenly dropped down through a hatch in the rooftop which had the Assassin insignia painted in red on it. Altair hissed at me to follow him as I hesitated, but eventually jumped down. I looked at my surroundings- a water fountain on the wall trickled peacefully in a small, walled area with a hatched ceiling. The heavy, almost intoxicating smell of jasmine incense filled the air. A number of brightly coloured cushions sat on the stone floor in the corners- sort of like birds nests. An archway led to a darker and more closed off room, where there were a number of bookshelves and scriptures scattered around the place.

"Ah, Altair..." said a voice, "A little bird told me you'd be paying a visi-" they paused, "Who's there?"

"It's my student," Altair said flatly. "Channelle..."

I nervously entered the room and an old, white-bearded Assassin standing behind a desk wearing a black-over robe eyed me.

"I wasn't aware she was a child..." the bureau leader said, "or female, for that matter..."

"You get used to it," commented Altair. "Anyway...Al-Mualim has ordered the execution of Garnier de Naplouse and so here I am. What can you tell me about him?"

"He is the Grandmaster of the Knight's Hospitalier, and surely keeps his Courtiers in their distance. Beyond that, I cannot say. I suggest you search the city, see what you can learn from the people."

"Tell me where they gather and I'll see what I can find."

"A public garden north of here...or what's left of them are as any good a place to begin. There is an abandoned market north west as well that merits watching..."

As the two discussed business, I stood anxiously behind Altair. The bureau leader occasionally peered at me judgmentally as he spoke to my mentor. Before Altair was dismissed to go and find his target, the bureau leader leaned in close to him and whispered something. There was a sigh from Altair, who said something which eased the other's anxieties.

"Go whenever you please," said the bureau leader, "But I wouldn't keep Al-Mualim waiting."

Altair nodded, and then looked at me:  
"You won't assist me with this assassination, child," he said, "Maybe in the other seven, but not this one. Acre is heavily occupied by Templars and I do not want you getting in any trouble...or injured. Stay here, make yourself useful."

I furrowed my eyebrows,  
"So what the hell was the point in me coming with you?!"

"I'm following the Master's orders, Channelle."

We keep eye contact for a few following moments before I back down, sighing. _He was only concerned for my safety...why was that a huge problem for me?_

"Fine," I mumble in defeat.

"I'll leave to collect information after resting for a while." He flicked his wrist, indicating for me to follow him into the hatched-roof area. He dragged a few cushions and added the to one of the nests, expanding it. He pointed at the extra cushions after sitting down, his legs crossed. I sat down and he glowered at me for a few moments.

"You have questions, child," he said.

"W-well..."

He sighed, "Out with it. I'll do my best to answer them."

"Alright..." I bit my lip, "Wh...why does Al-Mualim want me to go with you?"

"It's most likely because he doubts me so he tries to make me prove to him that I can be responsible," answered Altair, bitterly, as if he hated the thought of being doubted.

"And...these men you have to kill- why?"

"The world is most likely better without them."

"But do they link?"

Altair paused for a moment, as if something inside his mind bothered him, but then he shook his head,  
"I doubt they do."

I narrowed my eyes, and he frowned. "What is it?"

"You hesitated," I said.

"I did not."

"You did."

"Chann-"

"-You did though."

Altair gritted his teeth and his fists balled,

"Channelle," he said, almost threateningly, "What did I tell you when you first became my student?" He stared at me directly in the eyes without blinking. A shiver ran down my spine and I cowered a little, tearing my gaze away from him.

"I'm sorry, mentor," I said. Altair relaxed his stare. He then stood up,

"I'm going now. Try not to get into trouble," he said sternly. I nodded, and he climbed up the fountain and up through the hatch.

* * *

After around an hour waiting around doing nothing, I asked the bureau leader if he had any jobs for me to do. He just shook his head,  
"Being a bureau leader can be a very uninteresting and uneventful job, child," he told me, "Many Assassins fear Acre, so my job here is very dull. However in Jerusalem, we are constantly needing to set up more Assassin Dens."

"What does a bureau leader do, exactly?"

"We help. We give information and attend to the wounded. We send messages and reports."

"Ohhh..."

I felt his stare on me a while after our brief conversation had finished.  
"Altair...with a student..." he said, in disbelief. I frowned at him, and he apologized. "I'm sorry, it's just very unusual. Altair is usually more concerned about himself than other people."

"So I've heard..." I grumbled, growing tired of the same thing being said over and over again. He recognised my irritation and went back to reading his scriptures.

_This._

_Was so._

_SO._

_BORING._

* * *

_"She's waking up, sir!" I hear an urgent voice cry._

_"What? Impossible! Check her vitals!" Vidic._

_"Her heartbeat is 310bpm...oh my god...and she's bleeding!" _

_"What's going on?" Yes, what was going on? I was bleeding? What was happening? Where was I?_

_"She seems to be fighting the Animus...no...the Animus doesn't agree with her." Wait, I was inside the Animus? But I don't see or feel anything...it's just white. Not even the loading screen, it was just all white._

_"What, so are you suggesting the subject is_

_allergic to the Animus?" Allergic? Wait, shit! That doesn't sound good!_

_"I think so, sir."_

_"Is that even possible?"_

_"Apparently."_

_"Shit..." I then felt something touch my arm. "You're strong, Miss Gratton. I'll give you that. But you cannot win. I won't let you. Harrison, reduce the power to 30% and continue as normal."_

_"Yes, sir."_

"_You_ won't_ win."_

* * *

**A/N Yeah, so I don't think I actually got any reviews last chapter ;w; come on guys. I need to know if this fic is worth writing.**


	6. Dreams

_"She's screaming, sir!"_

_"-DESMOND! DESMOND! DESMOND-"_

_"Yes, Harrison, I could hear her from three levels down. What's going on?"_

_"-DESMOND HELP ME! DESMOND! DESMOND-"_

_"She's waking up...shit...she's waking up, sir!"_

_"No! Triple the current."_

_"It's already nearly on quadruple, sir. Any more could be lethal and we can't risk losing her."_

_"-DESMOND! PLEASE! DESMOND-"_

_"Hm... fine. Double it. We need to do this experiment. We HAVE to. And can somebody SHUT HER UP?"_

_There was the sound of pounding feet and clinking weapons. _  
_"Sir! There's been a security breach!"_

_"WHAT? Right now?"_

_"Yes. A team of about thirty Assassins have infiltrated the building...presumably to retrieve Desmond Miles and Sarah Gratton."_

_"Get Otso Berg on the defense. And Daniel Cross. They can deal with a couple of pests."_

_"Sir...they've already killed sixty of our men..."_

_"Then Mr Berg and Mr Cross can deal with all of them in half the time! Now go!"_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"As for you, Miss Gratton...we're keeping you for a while longer..."_

"Child, wake up."

I wake up to Altair kneeling beside me by the nest of cushions, blood splattered on his face and robes. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight and I was a little taken aback by it. I made a sleepy noise of complaint and slowly sat up, the heat of the day just making me want to go back to sleep. I rubbed my forehead before I glanced back at Altair, waiting for his instructions.

"The deed is done," he said, "we're leaving now."

"But I'm so_ tired,_" I complained.

"That doesn't matter right now. You can sleep later. Come." He got hold of my wrist and pulled me up, supporting me by the shoulders when I nearly stumbled over. My hand went to my head as I was hit by a sudden flashback of my dream and a headache.

"Are you alright?" Altair asked, slight concern in his voice.

"Yes...I..." I shook my head in disbelief, "I just had a really strange dream..."

Altair also shook his head, before clambering up the fountain and onto the roof. I followed him, climbing cautiously because I was still disorientated.

* * *

The journey from Acre seemed to be shorter than the journey to Acre. Once again Altair was quiet...quieter than usual, as if something was bothering him. No, something was _definitely _bothering him. _It was like someone had said something to him which had really sunk in...or maybe he was just trying to blank out so that the journey wasn't as long for him? I don't know..._

* * *

"Go, take the rest of the day off. You should to rest. As for me...I need to see Al-Mualim. I'll remember to tell him of your good behaviour."

I thanked Altair and ran straight in the direction of my chambers, knowing that all I wanted to do was wash, eat and sleep. _ How I'd missed my rough bed and dusty rug... _

I was more than a bit happy to see a plate of fresh hot food (some sort of meat and sauce and bread) and a vase of water with a cup. Next to that was a bowl of cool water and a fresh rag, and on my bed there was a fresh set of robes waiting to be worn. I happily ate my food and drank my water, and I gladly washed my face and splashed some water onto my body. I changed into my clean robes and collapsed onto my bed, sighing happily. A heaviness hit my head like it did earlier and I was suddenly exhausted, my muscles refusing to move and my eyelids dropping without my consent. I began to have another one of my strange, unexplainable dreams...

These dreams didn't concern me as much as they should have done. It felt like I was looking at some sort of memory, but everything was fuzzy and shaken up. Sometimes I only ever heard voices coming from whiteness.

What did nerve me, however, was that the girl who screamed had the exact same voice as I did. I never saw her face because I only ever saw from her eyes. People in white robes and white scriptures always looked over her, odd machines flashed and moved. I noticed some of them were wearing necklaces with a familiar red cross on it, so I'd came to the conclusion that they were Templars.

Then there was that one man who made my gut turn. I didn't know who he was or what his aim was, but he...he _frightened the hell out of me. _He was tall and had a short white beard and brushed back white hair. He seemed to be in charge because his manner was strong and domineering. He looked at the girl with such hatred and loathing. He seemed to be pleased to be doing these things to her.

_"Sir."_

_"Yes, yes. What is it, Harrison?"_

_"All the Assassins have been terminated."_

_"If only..." there was a pause, "All of them?"_

_"Yes sir."_

_"Good. Did you hear that, Miss Gratton? All thirty Assassins who tried to save you and your cousin are dead because of you. You led them here so they've paid the price. It's your fault. How does that make you feel? Sad? Angry? Vengeful? Ah, but what can you do? You're unconscious attached to __my machine in my building. You have no power or control here. You're weak and that's all you'll ever be."_

I woke up crying. I don't know why, but there were tears down my face and a sob stuck in my throat. My face was sticky from tears and snot, and I felt as though I had been crying for a while. I wasn't sure how I felt at that moment, but then I realised: I was full of guilt. Such heavy, soul-crushing guilt. I felt as though those mentioned Assassins' deaths were my fault, as if I knew each and every one of them and I let them all die.

_But I didn't? It wasn't me? I'm unfamiliar with that time and place...I don't understand the moving pictures or the clothing or their accents. It was so confusing._

I started to become aware of my surroundings as I snapped out of my trance. The sun was just setting and an orange light flooded my room. It was a truly beautiful sight- the clear sky, the setting sun, the gentle atmosphere. I sat there looking out for a couple of minutes, calming myself down. I listened to the quiet noises of talking and swordplay, to the sound of mentors yelling abuse at their students- it wasn't exactly the most peaceful of things to hear, but to me it was homely.

_I haven't even been here long and already I associated a castle which trains men into deadly emotionless killers homely... What would my father think? Would he be alright with training this serious at such an early stage of my life? Or was this normal? I remember he used to always say he wanted life for me to be as close to normality as possible._

_"Channelle," he'd say, holding my shoulders and locking his eyes on mine, "Your father loves you dearly and I know it's not always easy for you. I just want life to be as close to normality as possible for you, my dear."_

_"But father..." I'd respond with, "I don't understand."_

_He'd then laugh and shake his head, ruffling my hair. _

_I didn't understand what he meant because I thought my lifestyle _was _normal. I didn't know anything other than training and lectures. However, now I understood what he meant and I wish I could tell him I understood. I really did. _

_I missed Father. I missed his assuring smile and his soft brown eyes; his comforting words, his hugs which told me that everything was going to be alright. A lot of people treated me like dirt, looking down on me because of my gender and because of how small and pathetic I was. But Father always saw the best in me- he could be firm at times, for example, his training was tough and left me exhausted, but I knew he meant well. I trusted my Father with everything. I knew he'd never betray or intentionally harm me. He was just doing what he could without Mother._

Ah yes. Mother.

_Mother died when I was only five years old __but I remembered her so well. I remember her beautiful face, her soft wavy brown hair, her bright grey blue eyes, her uplifting laugh and comforting smell... but despite her beauty, she was very fierce and perhaps the strongest person I've ever known. I'd never seen her cry or act sad, even throughout the darkest of situations._

_She was strong and stubborn, just like everyone else in the Thorpe family. Mother seemed to be exactly like Aunt Maria, who used to visit. However, Aunt Maria was more tomboyish and even wore men's clothing which I found to be strange. _

_I started of living my life in England, with Father and Mother in a large country house in the South. We were quite wealthy, and had two huge gardens and a stable with four horses but I don't remember the names of them. I do, however, remember the names of the three servants we had: Peter- a young but very talented chef with a kind heart who used to sneak food to me; Gilbert- a middle aged head servant who was quite miserable towards me, but he always meant well; Tabitha, a young and very beautiful servant girl who used to be there for me when mother wasn't. _

_I started off my training when I was only three years old- Father had Gilbert show me the weapons shed and start explaining what certain symbols meant. In the time I was trained, the word "Assassin" was never used. Only words "Order" and "Righteousness". It was all so confusing at first, I didn't understand why I had to do hours of training alongside lectures about the history of what our "Order" did. I was also taught how to read and write fluent Italian and Arabic though I had no idea why._

_Mother and Father had a strange but loving relationship. They were both really quite stubborn at times, and argued a lot, but it was never serious. Most of the time it was jokingly. My grandparents would visit weekly- Grandpy and Grandmama. I loved them so much. Grandmama would spoil me and always give me little trinkets and pieces of expensive jewelry, and Grandpy would always insist on me sitting on his lap whilst he sang song and bounced me on his knee. He had such a soft singing voice and I often fell asleep on him. _

_Aunt Maria would visit on occasions too. She was nice to me, though I couldn't help but feel it was all forced. Before her divorce, she visited with her husband who had an extremely stiff upper lip and hated my guts, so I never went near him. Afterwards she just came on her own but not as often as before. O__ne day, I caught Aunt Maria and Mother having a serious argument. I recall Mother shouting at her at the top of her lungs, saying that she was a traitor and that not even hell would accept her. Aunt Maria simply shook her head and snorted, before striding out of the room. She saw me standing at the doorway, peering in with a worried face, and she petted my hair and kissed my forehead before leaving. It wasn't explained to me until later- Aunt Maria had joined the Templars. _

_Aunt Maria was the reason my Mother and Father were dead._


	7. A little bird

**A/N updated quicker this time in hope for more reviews. Please guys, if I feel like you don't like this story, then I won't update. I'm very anxious about how my second attempt at this will go...and I need your support. But thanks to those who have given me feedback so far c: it hasn't gone unappreciated.**

**This one is a long, busy chapter, so I'm hoping it doesn't bore you.**

* * *

**Altair's POV**

"Have you news for me Altair?" questioned the Master as I entered his study. I must have looked a mess; I hadn't had a chance to wash or to change my clothing, there were blood splatters on my robs and I felt dried blood on random places on my face. I felt sweaty, and my under tunic and leather armour stuck to my skin uncomfortably. I felt a little ashamed to greet my Master in such a ragged state, but he didn't seem to care.

"Garnier de Naplouse is dead," I informed, bowing my head in respect.

"Excellent!" he sounded almost _too_ pleased. "We could not have hoped for a more agreeable outcome."

"And yet..." I stopped myself, knowing he wouldn't be pleased with me questioning my target's morals.

Al-Mualim sensed my doubt and narrowed his eyes in irritation,"What is it?"

"The doctor insisted his work was noble," I explained,"and looking back...those who were supposedly his captives seemed...grateful to the man. Not all of them, but enough to make me wonder: how did he manage to turn enemy into friend?"

"Leaders will always find ways to make others obey them, and that is what makes them leaders. When words fail, they turn to coin. When that won't do, they result to baser things- bribes, threats and other types of trickery. There are plants, Altair. Herbs from distant lands that can cause a man to take leave of his senses. So great are the pleasures it brings... men might even become enslaved by it."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, the equation not completely making sense to me,"You think these men were drugged, then? _Poisoned_? "

"Yes, if it truly was as you describe it."

"Herbs..." I shook my head in disbelief, "this seems a strange method of control."

"Our enemies have accused me of the same." Al-Mualim chuckled a little.

"The promise of paradise..."

"They think there's garden," he adds,"overflowing with women and pleasure. But I drug you as Garnier did his men, and tempt you with it's rewards."

"They do not know the truth of it?"

"Which is how it must be."

"But..." I said, "but if they knew the truth of it, then all we seek is peace!"

"Then they would not fear us, and we would have no hold over them." His response seemed rehearsed and practiced, as if he was prepared for me to say what I did. "Is there anything else?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I said:

"Channelle did well on the mission."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. That girl is talented, to say the least..." he got lost in his thoughts for a moment. He then opened one of the drawers to his desk, and pulled out a small shortsword with a beautifully engraved handle and sheath. He threw it at me (and I caught it) and he said "Give this to her. It was mine when I was a Novice and since I won't be needing it, she can have it. Is that all?" I shook my head. "Now go. It is time you continued with your work. Another rank is restored to you, as is a piece of your equipment. We'll speak again when the next has fallen. "

I bowed my head and left.

I decided that I'd rest before I went to find and end the life of my next target. I also knew that Channelle would not be happy if she had to wake up and start travelling after having just returned. Thinking of the girl made me decide to see how she was, but knowing her, she'd probably be sleeping.

"Altair!"

I turned my head in the direction my name was called. It was Raviv.

"Safety and peace, brother," I greeted.

"To you as well," he answered. "You and Channelle have returned, I see. How is she doing?"

"I was on my way to see how she was." I paused, sensing his concern,"Why do you ask? Is something wrong with her?"

"There are several things wrong with that girl..." Raviv seemed concerned all of a sudden, "Altair. I wasn't sure if you knew this already...but she has awful night terrors."

"What do you mean?" _She'd told me she had nightmares and strange dreams, but night terrors? _

"She screams and cries in her sleep. Sometimes it sounds like she's being tortured by the Devil himself, the poor girl. She also constantly calls for her father and someone called Desmond."

"Desmond? Who is Desmond?"

Raviv shrugged, "I cannot say. Keep an eye on your student. I fear for her well being."

* * *

I made it to outside her chambers and I knocked twice on the door, waiting for her reply. There wasn't one. I opened the door and I saw the young girl curled up in the smallest ball possible under her covers, her light hair brushed back behind her ear, and her fists balled and tucked into her chest. Her bottom lip was pouted slightly and her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she was confused. I sighed, shaking my head. _We'd only returned half an hour ago, and yet she was already asleep. _I placed Al-Mualim's gift on her bedside, spending a moment to look at her. I suddenly experienced a sense of deja-vous as I looked at her face. _There was something very familiar about her but I couldn't place my thumb on it...had I seen her in the past? Did I know any of her relatives? What was it? _

As I turned to leave, I heard her start to whimper quietly in distress. Her breathing had accelerated and her fists kept clenching and relaxing repeatedly.

"Channelle?"I say quietly. She starts to mumble words in English which were too muffled for me to understand. Her hair falls over her eyes and I sigh, brushing it back behind her ear before leaving her chambers, only stopping to say,"_Alal-khair, Novice_."

* * *

**Channelle's POV**

I wake up early the following morning, the heaviness of having had overslept flooding my head as I sat up. I had a feeling that a lot of things would go wrong today, but I wasn't sure why. My gut told me, and I didn't completely trust my gut yet, even though Altair told me to on several occasions:

_"Three heavily armed guards, the walls are too high to climb and escape. What would you do in that situation?" he had asked._

_"Um...run and hope for the best?"_

_"Laa. You would trust your gut. What does your gut say about the situation?"_

_"That it's lunch time?"_

_He'd fixed me with a hard glare which told me not to act so stupid. I winced, apologising under my breath._

"I'm just being superstitious..." I mumble out loud. I yawn, stretching my limbs, then climbed out of bed and went to the fresh bowl of cold water on my dresser.

* * *

There was a knocking on my door around an hour later and an anxious servant girl entered with fresh clothing, food supplies and a bag.

"Um...Altair waits for you by the stables," she says nervously,"And he says to remember your...your sword..."

"My...sword?"

She points at the sheathed weapon on my bedside, and I stare at it. _Where did that come from?_ "Alright. Erm. Thank you." She leaves.

I picked up my sword and examined it. It was a beautiful specimen with vines engraved into a silver handle and sheath, and the blade was sharp and shiny, rather than dull and rusty like most of the other swords given to Novices in the Brotherhood. I smirked a little, taking a liking to it, and then attached it to my belt.

I gather my belongings and supplies, shove them into my bag, and hurriedly trot out of my chambers.

* * *

"You're late, Novice," Altair says, clearly not amused. "Have you got your sword?"

Due to the fact I was out of breath by this point, I just nodded and pointed to the weapon on my belt.

"You'd better take care of that," he continues,"That was Al-Mualim's when he was Novice."

I stared at him, bewildered,  
"What?" I gaped.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter child? Or did my tongue speak in another language?"

I rolled my eyes, tying my bag to Anis, "So where are we going, then?"

"Jerusalem," Altair answered stiffly, adjusting his own bags. _Oh, so only two days at the most... _

I let out a noise of surprise as I'm suddenly hauled up by the belt onto my horse. "What did I say about warning women before you shove them down onto a horse?!" I complained.

* * *

_Two days later_

Jerusalem seemed to be in a considerably better state than Acre was, and there was a more homely feel to it. There were still many Templar guards and shady-looking prostitutes walking about which made me anxious, but there where no where near as many as there were in Acre.

I liked the atmosphere of Jerusalem. People seemed to know where they were going and who was around them, and even though there weren't exactly welcoming smiles, the people seemed healthy and well nourished. It eased my nerves a little.

We took to the rooftops in order to get to one of the Assassin Dens, as we did in Acre, but before we dropped down through the hatch Altair stopped me and said regrettably:  
"The bureau leader is Malik."

"_Oh,"_ was all I could respond with. Altair shook his head and dropped into the den's fountain area, which was (again) similar to the one in Acre. I followed him, bracing myself for whatever was to come.

"Safety and peace, Malik," Altair greets, though his fists were balled.

"Your presence here deprives me of both," Malik responds, bitterly. I come through the entryway and stand closely behind Altair, keeping my lips pursed. Malik glances at me, his expression softening when his eyes meet mine, but hardens again when his angry owl-like gaze returns to Altair. "What do you want?"

"Al-Mualim has aske-"

"-asked that you perform some mere task in an effort to redeem yourself, so be out with it."

"Tell me what you an about the one they call Talal. "

"It is your duty to locate and assassinate a man, Altair," Malik remarked. "_Not mine_."

"You'd do well to assist me," tried Altair,"his death benefits the entire land."

"Do you deny his death benefits you as well?"

"Such things do not concern me. " _Poor choice of words, Altair...very poor choice of words..._

"Your actions_ VERY MUCH concern me_!"

The amount of tension in the room was suddenly extremely high. Malik had a dangerous scowl on his face and Altair was gritting his teeth, trying not to lose his temper. I was amazed neither one had tried to lash out at the other. It must have taken a lot of self control.

"Then _don't _help me," said Altair, after a while of tense silence. "I'll find him myself." He turned to leave but then Malik sighed loudly.

"Wait, wait..." he shook his head, "it won't do having you stumble about the city like a blind man. Better to know where to begin your search. "

Altair narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."

"I can think of three places..."

I stopped paying attention to what he was saying when I started to notice that there was something different about Maik; then I could have slapped myself. _His left arm was missing_\- the material of the left sleeve of his robes was pinned up to his shoulder. I didn't know why I didn't notice this before, especially because I'd previously heard Raviv talking to some other trainers about how Malik's arm had to be amputated._ I should really pay attention more often... _

"...is that all?" asked Altair, after a while.

"It's enough to get you started," said Malik. He then grimaced, turning away to look at the books on the shelves behind him. "_And more than you deserve_."

My mentor didn't even try to be polite before leaving. He just looked at the floor for a moment, and started heading out of the bureau.

"Channelle, you stay here," he called from the roof of the den, looking down at me.

"Yes, yes, I know the drill, _mentor_."

"Watch your tongue."

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Malik, who was angrily surfing through the books on the shelf. I anxiously licked my lips and thought about what to say. I didn't want to sound insensitive or rude to him, seeing as he'd been through a lot in just a matter of days. But all that came out was:

"Are you alright, Malik?"

"_Am I alright_?" he retorted, "I've lost my brother, my arm, my rank and my dignity all in a matter of days. But apart from that, yes I am alright." He then remembered to who he was talking to and he sighed, shaking his head sorrowfully, "I'm sorry, Channelle. I should not lash out at you...you've done nothing. It's your mentor who has done everything."

"It's...fine, Malik. I understand."

"I trust that you do." He turned around, resting his one arm on the desk, "Word has it that you've been having night terrors."

My mouth dropped open slightly and I stammered: "I-I-I wouldn't say _night terrors- _nightmares, t-to say the le-"

"-Ah, but Channelle. Our good friend Raviv tells differently. He says he hears you shout out and cry in your sleep."

This was news to me. _I shouted in my sleep? How loudly? Loud enough for other Assassins to check up on me? Or was I watched when I slept? _

Malik narrowed his eyes at me in thought. "Did you not know that you...?"

I shook my head and he laughed.

"My apologies," he said, "I suppose it's best that you know. People only have night terrors if they've been through traumatic experiences...I dread to think what a mere girl like you has been through."

"I'll admit, I could have been through worse," I say. There's a moment of silence before he puts his face in his hand,

"Please forgive my intrusiveness. It's just usually incredibly boring and almost lonely in here on most days."

"No worries, Malik. You seem to be a trustworthy person, so I don't mind."

Malik showed me a small smile, before turning back around to look at his shelf.

"Now, I have a job for you," he said, pulling out a bulky book from the shelf, "Usually we get birds to deliver messages but this is too heavy for a small bird."

"What do I have to do?"

"Take this to the bureau on the east side of the northwest bazaar. It's not that far away, so hopefully you should not have much trouble. Give this to the den leader, and he will give you some scriptures in return."

He pulled a bag from under the desk, and put the book in it before handing it to me.

"I must warn you," he said, his tone severe, "Do not let _anyone _stop you and do not let it out of your sight. Just go straight for the bureau. Am I clear, Novice?"

I nodded.

"Good luck. And try to be quick."

I slung the bag on my shoulder, headed out of the den and climbed up the fountain onto the roof. There was a warm breeze which would make running a lot easier. I decided to take Malik's advice and take to the streets, so I climbed down from the rooftops and into an alley. I took a moment to work out which direction I needed to go in, and I began jogging quickly.

The streets were busy, so I was careful not to crash into anyone whilst I rushed about. A couple of guards eyed me, but thankfully they ignored me.

As I got closer to the northwest bazaar, there were more and more people about so I had to slow down to a fast walk. I was starting to get anxious because I knew there was the high risk of someone trying to snatch my bag off me, so I hugged the bag to tightly my chest, eyeing the civilians around me. I began heading westwards, and I decided it would be a good idea to take to the rooftops to avoid all of the people. I pulled myself up a building, grazing my hands in the process. Once I was on the roof, I dusted myself off and prepared myself to begin jogging again, but then I heard something which caught my attention:

_"Is that her?"_

_"I think so...she's got the Assassins insignia on her belt and she fits the description..."_

_"She looks like she's got business to do."_

_"Well, orders from de Sable and Mistress Thorpe say we have business with her."_

_"Be careful, I heard she puts up a mean fight."_

_"If she's related to Mistress Thorpe, I would not be surprised."_

I looked down at the crowd and saw three very high rank Templar soldiers pushing their ways through the people and swore under my breath. There was no way I could beat them in a fight. I sprinted west, leaping quickly from rooftop to rooftop, hoping that they weren't on my trail. I heard them cursing loudly as they tried to climb a building, but by this time they were too far away to catch up with me.

I found the open hatch of the Assassins Bureau and I dropped down roughly, landing heavily.  
"Fuck!" I yelled out in English, as my leg gave way under me. I tried to stand up on my own but my knee hurt too much. I heard quick footsteps hurry in my direction as the den leader rushed over to me and helped me up,

"Can you walk?" he asked, his arm supporting me.

"Yes...I think so..." I pulled away from him and walked around slowly. My knee complained, but I was fine after a few moment. I pulled the book out of my bag and handed it to him. "I have this from Malik. He says you have scriptures in return...?"

"Ah yes..." he hurried around his desk, and pulled a couple of scriptures from a book, "These are extremely important. Don't let anyone get their hands on these."

"Alright..." I took them, but I moved away to quickly and my knee twanged again, "Ah, fuck..."

"Do you need to rest for a while?"

"No...thank you, but Malik said I needed to be as quick as possible."

_"_Be safe, Novice. Word on the street says Templars are looking for you."

"Thank you. I will."

He gave me a supportive nod as I left, climbing up the fountain, ignoring the pain in my knee. I looked around for Templars. I heard their angry shouting, but I couldn't see them, so I made a run for it.

"THERE SHE IS!"

I turned around to see that one of the soldiers had made it onto a rooftop and was charging in my direction. My heart began pounding quickly against my chest, as I quickly clambered down the building I was on into the crowd below. I heard the sound of people being shoved over behind me and of stalls behind knocked but I ignored it and kept running. I tried to throw people behind me, apologising to them as I sprinted away, but this only helped a little. I looked behind me and saw that they were gaining on me fast and I began to lose control of my breathing as I started to panic. I kept my legs going even though they felt like sacks of water and I kept breathing even though no air was going into my lungs.

I was so distracted looking back for the Templars I didn't pay attention to where I was going. There was a sudden burst of pain in my face as I smacked head-on into someone's torso. I stumbled backwards and over, my buttocks hitting the ground hard. Tears started to well in my eyes as I looked up in fear of who I crashed into.

Suddenly felt an overwhelming wash of relief. _ It was Altair._

"Channelle?!" He dragged me up, looking back at the hubbub behind us.

"Altair!"

"What's going on?"

"I'll explain later, but right now we have to run!"

"Why?"

"Please, I promise I will explain later." A sob got stuck in my throat, "We have to go."

"Are you hurt?"

"Yes, but I can run- just go!"

He grabbed my wrist, and sprinted back in the direction of Malik's bureau. The Templars were now far behind us, and we were safe enough to slow down our pace. Altair helped me up a ladder leading to the roof the hatch to the bureau was on, and he jumped down first, pulling me down gently and placing me on a pile of cushions.

"Those were high rank Templars, Channelle," Altair said, "Why are they after you?"

I could barely speak, my throat had closed off and tears were falling down my face. Before I could explain, Malik intervened:

"What in Allah's name did you do, Altair?" he demanded, "Templars are on high alert and Channelle's injured? I was almost forced to shut the hatch!"

"Talal is dead-"

"-yes, I know! In fact, the whole _city _knows of your actions, Altair. Yo-"

"-Malik, the alert Templars weren't after me."

"Then who?"

Altair looked at me, and Malik's angry expression sunk into confusion.

"Can you explain, Channelle?" asked Malik.

"My aunt..." I blubbered, "she's the one who got my mother and father killed. She's very close with de Sable and...they're looking for me..."

"Why?"

"I don't know! But they know I'm with the Assassins now..."

Malik and Altair were quiet for a moment as I tried to sort out my tears. After a while of awkward silence, Malik said:

"I'll send a bird to Al-Mualim letting him know..." he then eyed me cradling my knee, "Do you need medical attention?"

I nodded and he rushed off to get some bandages.

* * *

**A/N Please remember to leave those reviews c: I'd really appreciate some. **


	8. Tension

"How does it feel?"

I tried to move my leg only to be met with an almost paralyzingly sharp pain, followed by dull aching. My face screwed up in agony and I gripped tightly at the cushions I was sat on. _This wasn't good. The Master wanted us back as soon as possible, and I was preventing that. Shit. He would be so annoyed._

"Not good," I replied with my teeth gritted at the pain.

"I suspect the joint is fractured," Malik informed me after seeing to my knee, "You will need to rest for a few days, but it won't start to heal properly for a couple of weeks."

"But Al-Mualim expects us back as soon-" started Altair, before Malik cut in saying:

"-I have sent the word out and a messenger is headed to Masyaf as we speak-"

"-then maybe I should go to the Mas-"

"-And don't even think about abandoning the girl and seeking the Master yourself. She _is_ your student, Altair."

I heard Altair sigh. "_I know_, Malik. I know."

"Good. Now some of us have work to do. Try not to get into any trouble." He sent me a final look of sympathy and Altair a disapproving glare before heading to the room behind his desk.

"Allah..." Altair grunted, rubbing at his head in stress.

"I don't know what you're upset about," I mumbled, lifting up my leg carefully to move it to the side, "I'm the one in pain." I earned a glare from my seemingly worn out mentor. He looked tired, hot and bothered and was probably eager to move onto his next target or to have his next bathe.

"But seriously, what's the matter?" I added, trying to seem considerate.

"I am sure you overheard the Master punishing me for what happened in Solomon's Temple?" Altair said.

"No..." I lied.

"Do not lie to me. Guards say they saw you-"

"-They must have mistaken me for someone else, I was-"

"-also, _I _saw you."

I smiled innocently before asking, "What of it?"

"You know my ...situation with Malik, and how he thinks everything is my fault..."

"So? It _is _your fault, isn't it?"

"Yes, but-"

"-but nothing. You're completely resp-"

I let out a pathetic squeak as my neck is suddenly grabbed and I'm pinned onto the stone wall behind me. The point of a blade is pressed against the top of my throat and Altair's hazel eyes glower at me dangerously. I stare at him; confused, angry and frightened.

"What...what the hell, Altair?!" I demand, but my voice came out too weak for my liking. My breathing accelerated as I stared at the not-so-hidden blade nervously, really hoping he didn't press it any harder against my skin.

"You think I do not know it was my fault?" he hissed, keeping his voice down presumably so Malik wouldn't hear him, "You think I don't understand the consequences of my arrogant actions? Malik lost an arm and his brother because of me. I made him lose the person who meant the most to him, and I did so just by trying to be victorious for myself. I _fee_l his pain, child. I know how much it hurts and it is as if I'm currently feeling the exact same grief as he. Do not criticize me if you don't know what my thoughts are. And _especially_ don't criticize me because I am your elder and superior. Learn to tame that mouth of yours, else it'll get you into trouble in the future."

"...S-sometimes...w-we need to be faced with the truth..."

"Oh? And what truth is pressed against your throat right now, Novice?"

I swallowed nervously, feeling the sharp, cold metal move with my throat.

"I hope your belief comes back to bite you," he says, retracting his weapon, "Then you will learn."

I let out a couple of gasps of relief, massaging my sore neck. I felt a tears forming and I cleared my throat a few times to try and get past the desire to cry. Altair looked at me in disappointment,

"You're not going to _cry_, are you?" he questioned.

I kept my lips pursed, trying to get my tears under controlled but failing miserably. Altair rolled his eyes, but then he let out a small, regretful sigh,

"I...apologise. I went too far. I need to get my emotions under control." I ignored him, turning away from him. He then put his hand on my shoulder which caused me to freeze, my muscles tensing. "Channelle-"

"-_Do not touch me!" _I cried out. This caught him by surprise and he quickly withdrew his hand. It also caught a not-so-happy Malik's attention, who rushed into the court to see what was going on.

"And why, Altair..." he asked, his voice loud and tone annoyed,"...is the injured Novice not only crying, but demanding for you not to touch her?"

Altair stood up,  
"I'm sure she will tell you..." And with that, he climbed out of the court and disappeared. Malik came over and crouched next to me, the look of assurance on his owl-like face.

"What did he do?" he asked, his tone of voice considerably softer than when he was talking to Altair.

"I...I..." I stopped, thinking over the situation. _I couldn't tell Malik that Altair knew how he felt... that would cause problems. I should lie. _"I questioned his morals...and he grabbed my neck..."

"Allah..." Malik sighed, "I'll make a drink to calm your nerves..."

"Thank you..." I said, clearing away my last tears. "Malik?"

"Mm?" he asked from inside the bureau.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"You briefly remind me of him..."

"Of whom?"

"Kadar."

* * *

The following days were...boring to say the least. Malik had me walk about so my knee would get used to movement, but it still hurt a lot. It clicked uncomfortably every step I took and there was now a large purple bruise spread across the area.

_"Malik...it hurts..." I winced as he helped me hobble around in circles._

_"I know, child, I know. But you need to stay active..."_

Altair spent a lot of time either out of the way, or sat in a nest of cushions, sleeping. I was still very weary of him since the incident. I was supposed to trust him, but how could I if all he did was threaten me all of the time? _He confused me so much. Sometimes he seemed to...I don't know...like me? He smiled at my snide comments and or responded with his own equally snide remark. I thought we got along, but apparently not. I thought something inside that Temple changed him, but again- apparently not._

I helped Malik out with sorting of documents and other "bureau leader work". It was boring, but it gave me something to do whilst stuck inside the hot den. As it turns out, some of the Assassins in Masyaf get sent out to different parts of the world to complete missions and investigations, and I found this very interesting. There were even matters in England...

Malik and Altair constantly bickered like children. Well, it was more of Malik criticizing Altair about something and Altair failing to explain himself, and then Malik insulting him, usually finishing by calling him a Novice. At first it was funny, but then it grew boring and tiresome because it happened so often. Anything Altair said, Malik found something to say about him.

It got to the point where it'd just be rude and awkward for Altair to ignore me completely, so he attempted to confront me about what happened a few days ago.

"Listen, Channelle," he said, "I think an apology is due."

I didn't say anything, I just glared at him.

"I was ... extremely out of line and let my emotions get the better of me. I was reckless and my actions were unnecessary. "

Again, I remain silent.

"I'm asking for forgiveness, Channelle. Do you give it to me?"

I sighed, "You know, Altair? To think I was actually happy to see you when you returned from Solomon's Temple." I stood up, grunting in pain as I did so, "You're so predictable. Get over yourself. Only then will I forgive you." I hobble off to find Malik, leaving him there speechless and feeling guilty.

* * *

**General POV**

_Meanwhile, at Jerusalem Knight's Templar Headquaters_

"Mistress Thorpe!"

Two knights burst in through the door of Maria's chamber without warning, causing the woman to look up from writing and send glares of torturous death to the pair of them. _She was incredibly busy and those Knights were being incredibly rude._

"What is it?" she demanded, scanning both of them carefully with her piercing eyes.

"Channelle..." said one of the Knights, "she's in Jerusalem."

Maria's light blue eyes widened and the quill almost dropped out of her shaking hand. Her heart began pounding hard against her chest as a thousand thoughts at once circled inside her head.

"What did you just say...?"

"Channelle's in Jerusalem. She was sighted."

"And you're sure it was her?"

"She fit the description perfectly but...-" the knight held his tongue, in fear for his life.

"But _what_, soldier?" Maria's eyes narrowed again as she sensed something was being hidden from her.

"...She wore the Assassin insignia..."

There was a nerving silence which made the two Knights extremely worried. Maria was so unpredictable and her emotions were always all over the place; they were never sure how she'd react.

"Very well," Maria said at last. Sighing, she waved away the Knights. "Dismissed."

She put down her quill and stood up, pacing around with her arms folded as she fell deeper and deeper into her thoughts: _No...she couldn't be in Jerusalem. She couldn't even be in the Middle East...what was she doing here? And she found out about the Assassins? Shit. Now she'd understand why I did what I did and hate me even more for it. Knowing her, she would not even care to hear me out, she'd try to kill me on site. Well, then I'd have to kill her first... But maybe we could try to get information about the Assassins from her, before that? Torture her a little...teach her a lesson...and then promise to spare her life if she joined me in the Templar order? If she refuses to join...then I'll kill her myself. Yes... then she'll be out of the way for good. _

**Meanwhile, in Jerusalem**

A sleeping girl was curled up on Malik's bed in the Assassin's bureau. Malik had only allowed her to sleep there because she needed to keep her leg straight in order for it to heal properly. Altair, however, was stuck with the pillows which were comfortable at first, but to sleep on for hours they were not. He felt his neck starting to cramp and knots forming in his back, which consequently put him in a permanent foul mood. He was also in a foul mood because he knew he had to take what Channelle had said to him before. He hated to admit it but the young girl's words had actually hurt him.

However, he was learning to cover his negative emotions. He had to, if he was to get back into Malik's good books. He kept trying to think of things to say to the man, but whenever he tried talking to Malik he just dismissed him with his disinterest. Channelle was also avoiding Altair. She was both angry and rather terrified of him. She found that he had such an intimidating manner about him all the time; he never seemed to smile and was either just stone faced or scowling. It made her very anxious, so she tried to stay with Malik, who provided good company.


	9. Confusion

**Channelle's POV**

Days turned into weeks, but finally we were able to head back to Masyaf. Messengers came and go, and it began to show that Al-Mualim was growing impatient and demanding for us to go back to the citadel. My leg was painful, but I could run without it buckling under my weight so Altair decided it was time for us to go.

Malik made a sarcastic comment about how much he'd miss Altair's grand presence in his bureau, wished me luck and we were off.

* * *

"Four weeks, you two. A job that should have taken no more than one and a half took you _four weeks. _What happened?"

"There was...an incident, Master," Altair replied, anxiously.

"Such as...?"

"Channelle was delivering something for Malik and the Templars spotted her. Their instructions were for some reason to capture her, and whilst she escaped from them, she was injured. She could barely walk."

"My knee was fractured, Master. I couldn't ride or run if I needed to," I explained, "I'm sorry for being a burden."

Al-Mualim sighed,

"What am I going to do with you, Channelle?" He pointed at the door and looked at Altair, "Leave us."

"Yes, Master." Altair glanced at me for a moment before heading out of the study. The doors shut behind him as he left and Al-Mualim stared at me carefully.

"If there's something you've forgotten to mention to me, say it now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you know why the Templars might be after you. Malik mentioned you saying something about an aunt...?"

I swallowed.

"Well? Spit it out, girl!"

"My aunt Maria is close with de Sable. Very close. She wants me for some reason. I don't know why, but I doubt it's good."

"And you didn't think to mention this before because...?"

"I didn't think she was that desperate to see me dead. "

"I see..." he went quiet for a moment. "I think it would be safer if you'd stay here whilst Altair hunts his targets. We can't risk any more delays."

"Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed. Seek your secondary mentor. I'll be sending Altair to his next destination tomorrow."

* * *

Weeks and weeks passed. It was just hard training by myself. I wasn't allowed to fight with the boys my age for a reason I didn't know. It probably was because I'm female, which I found highly offensive. I could fight just as well as any boy; maybe better. Raviv was firm, but fair in his training. He'd had orders from the Master to push me, so I was constantly tired and exhausted even though I had to be alert. I lost count of the amount of times I had run up and down the hill, and how many times I had to climb up the archer towers. Raviv kept making me do the same things over and over and over again, telling me constantly to be quicker and less hesitant. He tired me out so much by the time I was allowed to return to my chambers to sleep, I'd be out in a matter of minutes.

Although, sleep wasn't so blissful. I kept having different nightmares and strange dream- from the point of view of that girl who was similar to me. She'd been through the most horrific things but it almost felt like it was me going through those tragedies.

The most recent dream was perhaps the worst.

_"Sarah...come on, sweetheart, you have to run." _

_"I am, dad! My legs...they're jelly!"_

_"You have to run, your life depends on it."_

_"Dad-"_

_"-Please, they already took your mother. I don't want them taking you."_

_I did my best to catch up with my father, although I lagged behind considerably. My legs, they were so tired from running I could barely stand. But dad kept a tight hold of my hand and literally dragged me along. We were nearly free; we were nearly out of the building. We were going to make it. The car wasn't far away, it was just around the corner-_

**_Bang_**

_"Shit!" Dad stopped, "Sarah, keep running. I'll take some of them down."_

_"-but dad-"_

_"-just do it. I'll be with you in a sec, sweetheart. I promise." He sounded sincere but his hazel eyes weren't certain. He looked frightened, which was something I'd never seen before. Regardless, I did as I was told and ran towards the exit. I then heard the noises of men being impaled and beaten but thankfully none of those sounds came from my father._

_"Oh, James..." came a familiar voice. It was Vidic, "You've caused quite a ruckus, haven't you?" There was the cocking of a gun. I froze in my tracks. I saw the exit but I could also see Vidic and my father. I decided to disobey my dad and hid behind a wall, peering around it to watch what was happening. _

_"You've interfered with my family enough, Warren," my dad growled, "And now you want to fuck with my daughter, too? She's just a child. Have a heart, you sick bastard, or I swear, I'm going to rip out the chords with give you a voice and feed them to the dogs like you did with my wife."_

_"Is that what you want you last words to be? Is that the last thing you want your precious daughter to hear you say?"_

_"What?"_

_"Look." Vidic pointed in my direction and I felt my heart pumping heart in my chest. Everything seemed to slow down from there._

_"Sarah, run!"_

_**Bang. **_

_Dad's eyes widened in pain and his hand went to his back and returned shaking and covered in blood. Vidic chuckled from behind him as he watched what was going on. Dad stumbled towards me but didn't get very far. His arm stretched out for me ad his scared eyes locked with mine as he mouthed: _

_"I love you, I'm sorry." And he fell to the ground, bleeding from his mouth and remaining still. _

_I suddenly couldn't breathe, my chest seized up and no air entered my lungs. Tears fell down my face as I felt my heart breaking into several pieces. My hand subconsciously reached out for my dead father and it shook violently._ This isn't happening, _I told myself, _this isn't real.

_"Well, you heard him didn't you?" said Vidic, obviously pleased with himself. He came over to me but I couldn't move. I just stood there, petrified, looking up at the murder. He smiled at me and gestured to the exit, whispering: "_Run, rabbit, run_."_

I woke up terrified and mournful. I didn't know how to react. Why was I feeling this person's grief? Why was I the one who felt like they'd just lost everything? And what was that strange weapon, that strange building? There was so much I didn't understand.


	10. Plotting

I had two weeks free of training to rest. My leg was still healing and very painful, and Altair seemed to be keeping his distance from everyone, including me. I tried to keep to myself also. I needed time to think, time to relax, time to be myself.

_A_l-Mualim had other plans for me. He called me up to his study a couple of times a day to give me lectures and speeches about the Assassins' cause. This was boring for me at first, but then he started talking about mysterious artifacts known as 'Pieces of Eden'- objects that supposedly were made by a civilization before which could control the hearts and minds of men. At first, I thought Al-Mualim was pulling some sort of prank but then he got out the artifact Malik retrieved from Solomon's Temple. It was called the 'Apple of Eden' and I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. It was a hand-sized golden globe with glowing etchings which seemed to leak life. There was a certain aura to it that one couldn't describe to others unless they were there. I felt like it was talking to me...I was drawn to it; I felt empowered and intrigued.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Al-Mualim said, just as mesmerized as I was, "but also deadly. Do you understand how dangerous it could be in the wrong hands? Which is why de Sable will never get hold of it. Now do you understand, my child?"

"Yes, I do...I think..."

The artifact started making a buzzing noise which alarmed the pair of us. Then, long beams of gold started protruding from the orb and stretching towards me. I sat still, feeling myself start to get anxious of the unknown.

"It seems to be drawn to you. See how the light beams are reaching towards you?" He gave me a small smile. "Touch it."

"What?"

"Touch it. It's alright, I have on several occasions. It won't hurt you."

I nervously reached out and placed my hand on the Apple of Eden, and I felt a sudden surge of power. My whole body started throbbing and it was like I could feel the presence of people who weren't there. I felt them touching my shoulders and whispering in my ears, but I could hear what they were saying. I tried to focus and I noticed that one voice in particular was the loudest. It belonged to a man with a strange accent, but spoke English, who was desperately calling out for someone...Sarah? I saw a gold hand materialize out of thin air and place itself on my shoulder. From that hand grew a tattooed arm and it started trying to shake my shoulder. I let go of the Apple, finding it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. I was speechless- how was I supposed to react to that?

"I..." I began.

"I know." Al-Mualim was just as bewildered as I was. He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked at me carefully with his one wise eye, "I can see so much potential in you. You are doing so well. I'm proud to call you my student." I smiled at him and bowed my head. I felt myself starting to look up to the wise old mentor. I felt the need to gain his approval yet I felt comfortable in his presence. He praised my talents and gave me criticism where I needed it without making me feel like a failure. He was a much better mentor than Altair, who was constantly grumpy and rarely complimented anyone, let alone me. When he did, it felt like he had to force it out.

Although, he did seem to be changing somehow. He wasn't as arrogant or quick to attack with words. He seemed thoughtful, as if there was something on his mind constantly bothering him.

* * *

Time seemed to speed up rapidly and already Altair had killed eight out of the nine targets. To my pleasure, I was allowed to assist one of the assassinations, who was supposed to be de Sable, however it turned out to be someone I never wanted to see again.

_Altair parried Robert's lunge, and I caught de Sable in the side and my dagger went through his amour. The cry he made was strangely high-pitched and it somewhat startled both my mentor and I. Whilst de Sable was recovering and cowering away from my attack, Altair took the chance to shove his hidden blade into his shoulder, grabbing him and forcing off his helmet._

_It was not de Sable. It was my aunt Maria._

_"What sorcery is this?!" Altair demanded in shock._

_The two exchanged questions and information and Altair then decided to let her free._

_"What?" I gaped, coming out of my hiding spot,"But she wants to kill me!"_

_"Channelle!" Altair snapped, "I told you to stay out of sight after confrontation!"_

_Maria tilted her head in curiosity, a rogue strand of hair falling to one side,  
"And I just thought you were a very small man," she said. Then she shook her head, smirking, "It's been too long, my dear."_

_"Not long enough..." I drew my dagger and start stomping towards her. Altair put his arm out, blocking me. I looked up at him in confusion, "Altair-"_

"Spare her. She is not the target."

_"B-but she wants me dead!" I tried pushing past him but he wouldn't allow it. Maria just snorted at my attempt._

_"No, I want you to join the Templars," Maria said smugly, holding her injured shoulder, "Actually...yes, I'd kill you if you refused. But as of late you've been so much trouble and I don't think you're even worth the effort, especially with every Assassin protecting you. "_

_"Let's go, Channelle," Altair said, turning to leave. Maria smirked:_

_"If you cause any more trouble for the Templars, however, I will not hesitate to send them out for you again, my dear! Don't think for a second that I won't!"_

_"You should have killed her," I growled to Altair, angrily,"Or better, I should have-"_

_"-She was not my target. I wasn't going to go against our Creed."_

_"She's the reason I'm orphaned, Altair. And she was right there, vulnerable and injured and I had the chance to get rid of her. Why coul-"_

_"-You are better than that, that's why."_

_He had a point. Revenge wasn't a good thing to practice. If I killed her, then I'd be no better than her, would I? Would I...? It still gnawed at my nerves. I desperately wanted her dead for what she'd done- and she was right there. _

After the mistake, Altair sent me back to Masyaf with an escort whilst he stayed out to find the real de Sable, to end things for good. Within the first thirty minutes of my arrival, I was approached by Malik. He seemed to be in a much better mood as of late, and I'd grown very fond of him.

"Ah, Channelle, you're back!" he said, a bright expression on his face. He paused, looking behind me, "Where is Altair?"

"Finishing the job," I answered, "The person we thought was de Sable was a decoy."

"I suspected as much. De Sable is too aware of our actions."

"Why aren't you at your bureau?" I asked.

"The Master wanted to see me. I'm here for a few days to teach the Novices a thing or two before returning there."

We were then joined by Raviv, who'd appeared to have been running for some time. He took a moment to attempt catching is breath, before managing:  
"Master...wishes to ...see you...In study...Allah-!" he coughed, taking several deep, raspy breaths. Malik put his hand on the man's back for support as he continued to cough and splutter.

"_Bismillah..._" murmured Malik, shaking his head at the younger man."You'd better go, Channelle. The Master already knows you're here and doesn't appreciate lateness. Safety and peace, child."

"To you as well," I nodded, jogging off in the direction of Masyaf hill to reach the citadel. A couple of Assassins greeted me and bowed their heads in respect, welcoming me back to the castle. _It was strange...just a few weeks back they'd be sniggering and laughing behind my back as if I was a freak. Now they respected me. Did Al-Mualim talk to them...?_

I reached the Master's study and he seemed nearly glad to see me.

"Ah! My girl, I knew you'd returned..."

"You wanted to see me, Master?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk about something."

"Of course."  
The old man sighed and clasped his hands behind his back, beginning to pace to-and-fro as he did usually. The look on his face said that the information he had to share was not good news, and he seemed even a little pained to have to share it with me.

"I...suspect I will die soon," he said.

"What's the matter, Master?" I asked, concerned, "Are you ill?"

"No, no, my child. I am perfectly well. I'm just unsure for how much longer for. You see, I suspect I will be murdered." There was a while of silence before I plucked up the courage to ask:

"How can you know this?"

"The Piece of Eden has many abilities. I recently discovered fortune telling is one." He picked up the magnificent box from his desk and opened it, revealing the Apple, which was glowing brightly. "Take a look." I placed my hand on the shining orbs and several scenes flashed inside my head: Al-Mualim sparring with Altair; Altair making the killing blow; Altair taking the Apple for himself...-

"It cannot be!" I exclaimed, feeling anxiety fill my stomach, "Altair- he'd never do anythi- I mean, why would he? I don't understand!"

"Calm yourself," the Master said in a way which was comforting, but also a reminder to keep myself in check. "I myself don't know the reason he'd do such a thing. Greed, perhaps. The boy is arrogant and only considers himself. You must know that by now." I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, remembering the times he's been concerned for my safety and put my well-being before his.

Al-Mualim put both hands on my shoulders, and stared into my soul.

"Channelle," he said, "I want you to help protect me from him, no matter the costs. I do not wish to engage in a fight with him. He'll listen to you. Should the time come, I want you to challenge him."

"Challenge him how?" I asked.

"Whichever way you see fit."

* * *

**A/N sorry for the wait, and sorry for the time skip. I really want this fic to get up and going, like I managed to do last time. I hope to update more regularly, but I need feedback. Even if your comment is just "cool story bro", anything will satisfy me. Thanks c: **


	11. Battle

**A/N bit of a long one, folks. Hold your horses.**

* * *

**Gerneral POV**

After finishing de Sable for good, it became clear to Altair that all the pieces of the puzzle were in place, though he was still hoping they were not. His suspicions about Al-Mualim seemed to make more and more sense as he went over them in his mind, though he really didn't want them to be.

_And what of Channelle?_ Altair thought, _would she let herself be controlled by our Master? Would he use her as an obstacle between us?_

There was only one way to find out, and that was to travel back to Masyaf and confront Al-Mualim.

* * *

It was hauntingly quiet when he arrived back in his village. Not many people were about, and those that were stumbled in a slow, dazed and drunken manner. It concerned Altair, whose mind raced for ideas. _Maybe the Templars got here first? Maybe the village was evacuated? _ Altair grabbed the arm of a wandering civilian.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Gone to see the Master..." the man's reply was dull and dragged and his glazed eyes remain permanently looking upwards, not blinking.

"Was it...the Templars?" Altair tried, preferring that scenario to the one he feared was happening. "Did they attack again?"

"They walk the path."

"What path?" Altair's patience began to blow. "What are you talking about?"

"_Towards the light..."_

"Speak sense!"

"There is only what the Master shows us..._this _is the truth."

"You've lost your mind!" Altair spat, turning around to walk away.

"You too will walk the path...or you will perish...it's all the Master commands!" Altair's heart stopped and he turned around to face the man once again. He let out a defeated sigh as he tried not to let feelings of betrayal overwhelm him yet.  
"It was Al-Mualim, wasn't it?" he said. "What's he done to you?"

"Praise-be to the Master for he has led us to the light!"

Altair shook his head, before beginning his journey jogging through the village, past all the zombie-headed civilians, being careful not to crash into any of them. He reached the bottom of the mountain and he feared what he had to face. Not far up, he was met by six Assassin guards standing in a straight line in his way, their eyes also staring upwards. Then they began to attack him.

"Kill the traitor!"

Altair knew it would be wrong to kill them since they were being controlled, so he didn't draw any weapons.

One man struck forwards with his sword and Altair dodged, gripping the handle and disarming the Assassin. Another tried stabbing his neck, Altair grabbed his wrist and sprained it. Soon all six had been defeated but not killed, and Altair continued making his way up the spiral of dust. From a cliff ledge above him, he heard the scrambling of feed and he prepared himself for the worst. To his relief, it was Malik and his bureau leaders.

"Altair!" Malik waved, "Up here!"

Altair ran and quickly joined them. He gave Malik a smirk,

"You picked a fine time to arrive," he joked.

"So it seems," chuckled Malik.

"Guard yourself well, my friend. Al-Mualim has betrayed us."

"Yes. He betrayed his Templars as well. "

Altair tilted his head in confusion. "How do you know?"

"After we spoke I returned to the ruins beneath Solomon's Temple," explained Malik,"Robert had kept a journal, filled its pages with revelations. What I read there...broke my heart. But it also opened my eyes. You were right, Altair. All along our Master has used us! We were not meant to _save _the Holy Land...but to _deliver it to him. _He must be stopped!"

"Be careful, Malik," Altair warned. "What he's done to the others he'll do to us, given the chance. You must stay far from him."

"What would you propose? My blade arm is still strong and my men remain my own. It would be a mistake _not _to use us. "

Altair sighed. "Distract these...thralls then. Assault the fortress from behind. If you can draw their attention away from me, I might beat Al-Mualim. "

**_Meanwhile_**

As instructed, Channelle waited in the archway to watch how everything unfolded. She couldn't help but feel as if Al-Mualim was containing something from her, or perhaps not telling the complete truth, but she did her best to shake off that feeling. It didn't help how the atmosphere was pretty much silent aside from the sound of the trickling stream in the fortress air was cool, but there was no breeze. The village was also surprisingly quiet, she noted, she couldn't hear the evening hubbub there usually was. And also-_ where were all the Assassins?_

She occasionally picked up the sound of her Master pacing about his study and it made her wonder what he had planned. _What was going on with him?_

From afar, she picked up the sound of clinking; the sound Altair's belt made as he walked. As Al-Mualim had predicted, Altair entered from the North archway into the gardens. When he reached the mosaic beneath the balcony of Al-Mualim's study, he stopped and screamed, levitating a few inches into the air being surrounded by a golden light. He was in great pain, it was if all of his insides had turned to stone and someone was squeezing his throat.

"What's happening?!" he cried. Concerned, Channelle rose from her seat but a commanding voice in her head instructed her to stay put, so she did.

Al-Mualim revealed himself on the balcony, the Apple at hand. It was glowing and humming, and the Master of the Assassins wore a power-hungry expression on his old face. It no longer looked kind and wise, but evil and possessive.

"So," he said, "The student returns."

"I've never been one to run!"

"Never been one to listen, either. "

Altair grunted in pain, trying to resist his restraints but failing, "I still live because of it. "

There was a long pause as Al-Mualim stared beadily at Altair with his one eye, smirking.  
"What will I do with you?"

"Let me go," answered Altair with a hateful growl.

"Ohh, Altair," mocked Al-Mualim, "I hear the hatred in your voice. I feel its heat. Let you go? Now, that would be unwise."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I found proof."

"_Proof of what_?"

"That nothing is true, and everything is permitted." He raised his arm, the Apple glowing more vividly. Altair's nine targets appeared below, surrounding him in a circle, weapons out and ready to attack.

"Wait!" Channelle called, disobeying the commandments inside her mind and rushing to the scene, "Master, what are you doing?"

"I told you, child," Al-Mualim answered gritting his teeth, irritated at her interference,"he intends to kill me."

"No..." responded the girl, "He's just as confused as I am with what's going on. It seems to me he only plans to kill you because he has no choice. What are you even trying to accomplish?"

"Something a mere girl like you would not understand. Now get out of the way!"

Channelle darkened, not appreciating how she was being talked to. She now knew that Al-Mualim had been manipulating her, just as he had done with Altair.

"You're doing this..." Channelle said, putting the pieces together, "For yourself? Because you want power? And the other Assassins...they're all under your spell. For how long have you deceived and betrayed us all? "

"I have had enough of you, Channelle!" Al-Mualim pointed the Apple in the direction of Channelle. She let out a piercing scream which made Altair cringe as her body was filled with a consistent searing pain. Blood began dripping from her nose and rose up her throat, causing her to choke as she screamed. Al-Mualim seemed to take pleasure in torturing the girl, starting intensely as the agony Channelle was experiencing worsened still.

"Stop!" Altair yelled, snapping the Master out of his twisted trance. "She is just a child!"

"So be it."

Al-Mualim waved the Apple once more and Channelle dropped to the floor, shivering violently and sobbing.

"Come, destroy the betrayer," Al-Mualim commanded to the ghosts, taking no notice of the injured child. "Send him from this world." With these words, Altair was released and the nine targets stepped forward and began attacking him whilst Al-Mualim watched with amusement.

Whilst the battle commenced, Channelle was trying to regain herself. She wiped the blood from her nose and spat out the blood stuck in her throat. Her whole body ached and tingled, and it hurt her to even breathe. She tried to stop crying but it was difficult for her- she was frightened, no, she was _petrified_ of what was happening. She didn't fully understand the situation and she didn't want to either, in fear of the truth. She was also hurt and betrayed by her Master's change of heart. She'd put her complete trust in him and all he had done the past few months was lie to her.

She glanced up at the fight, watching Altair impale one of his target as they disapparate into thin air. Soon, they were all dead again, and once again, Altair was restrained by the Piece of Eden.

"Face me!" shouted Altair, "Or are you afraid?"

Al-Mualim laughed, jumping down from the balcony onto the platform below. "I have stood before a thousand men, all of them superior to you. And all of them _dead, _by _my _hand. I am _not _afraid."

"Prove it," challenged Altair.

"What could I possibly fear? Look at the power I command. " As he walked forward, eight copies of himself emerged from him, standing around Altair. Channelle got up and started stumbling towards the ensemble, drawing her sword. Al-Mualim sighed as if she was a pesky fly buzzing around in his face. He didn't hesitate to start torturing her again with the Piece of Eden. Channelle felt the pain envelope her entire being, worse than the last time, but she didn't scream. Altair rushed to attend to her, supporting her as she managed to hold herself up on her knees.

"You foolish girl," Altair mumbled to her, "It is too dangerous for you to even be here..."

Channelle couldn't respond as it pained her to much. To her it was like her voice box had been set on fire.

"Stay out of the way, Channelle!"Al-Mualim shouted angrily. Channelle glowered at the traitor, managing to look at him in the eye as she was being maimed. Al-Mualim was the first to back down.

"Altair, face me!" His concentration had returned to Altair, who was helping Channelle and ignoring Al-Mualim. Consequently, Channelle's pain stopped and she came to a realisation: _Al-Mualim couldn't control her or Altair's mind...neither could he use the Apple to its full potential. He could only accomplish one task with it at a time. _

_"_Leave her and confront me," Al-Mualim repeated, who was still holding Channelle. "After all, you were so eager to fight me." Altair placed her down gently and drew his weapon, anger filling his muscles, awaiting for the copies of his Master to attack.

Whenever Channelle tried to stand up, she felt a glimmer of the burning pain enter her body and she'd be forced down again. There was only so much she could take, and she was rendered unconscious, her whole world turning black for a while. When there was light again, there was only one Al-Mualim fighting Altair- the original. She watched as the skilled old man gained the upper hand, jabbing Altair's side. Altair yelped, and looked down where his white robes turned red. He gritted his teeth and proceeded with a series of his own fueled attacks, though this wasn't enough to phase Al-Mualim. He easily deflected and parried his movements, almost effortlessly dodging out of the way and smoothly striking back.

"Mentor...!" Channelle managed, her voice getting stuck in her dry throat. Altair was loosing, Al-Mualim had injured him too greatly. He was growing tired and slow, whilst the old man still had a spring to his step. Channelle took a few deep breaths and stood up, her body complaining in the process but she ignored it. She picked up her sword and sneaked behind Al-Mualim, who failed to realise she was there. Using all the strength in both her arms, she thrust her weapon hard into his back. There was a crunch and a wet squelch as Al-Mualim yelled out, turning around and stabbing Channelle in the ribs. She inhaled sharply, taking a moment to register the blade impaling her.

"_No_!" Altair cried.

Al-Mualim roughly kicked her off his weapon but before he could focus his attention back on Altair, he was met with a hidden blade embedded his throat. The old man had finally been defeated, and the Apple rolled out of his hand as Altair lowered him to the ground. Channelle lay there bleeding and whimpering, her head spinning and her heart throbbing. She watched Altair and Al-Mualim exchange final words and as the Apple projected a brilliant image into the air, symbols flashing and glitching around it. It distracted her from the pain for a short while until voices arose again:

"Do it!" She heard Al-Mualim urge, "Destroy it like you said you would."

"I...I can't..." Altair said, mesmerized.

"Yes you can, Altair._ But you won't_." And with that, the treacherous sorcerer was dead. Altair rushed over to the bleeding girl. A small pool of blood stained the stonework beneath her, and though she was pale to begin with, her complexion was nearly white. Altair helped pull her into a sitting position, applying pressure to the deep wound. Channelle let out a little whelp, tears falling down her frightened face.

"It's alright," Altair soothed, "It's alright, habibi..." But it wasn't alright. Channelle began coughing blood, which was never a good sign and Altair knew it. He began to panic, but still tried calming his injured student. He wanted to save her but he didn't know how, and that scared him.

However, to his utter relief, Malik and his men came speeding into the gardens.

"Altair! Altair!" called Malik. Altair gestured the girl he was holding, and concern immediately plastered Malik's face. He joined the two, checking Channelle's pulse, and quickly examining the wound.

"She's fading fast," he said, "but there's still something we can do."

Channelle was indeed fading fast. Her vision was blurry and a ringing sound filled her head, dulling out the sounds of her surrounding. She couldn't hear what Malik and Altair were saying, and she was beginning to lose feeling in her arms and legs. She began to feel a very heavy tiredness fill her head and she couldn't help but close her eyes. She heard Altair shout something at her but she didn't know what he was saying, and she couldn't find the energy to listen. She was too exhausted, all she wanted to do was sleep; her heartbeat was slowing and everything around her slowed to a stop.

She felt reality falling to pieces before finally, she lost consciousness.


	12. Abbas

"No response from the subject, sir," Harrison said, tapping desperately at a keyboard.

"Her vitals?" asked Vidic.

"All fine, she's just disconnected herself from the Animus."

"Well? Find a way to get her back online! Right now!"

"We've tried, sir, but we're going to have to do a reboot. Her body can't take much more and we haven't finished the research."

Vidic sighed, putting his face in his hand as he thought about the different possible solutions to this problem. He came to the conclusion that there were none.

"Fine," he said. "Reset the Animus. Wake her up."

"Yes, sir." With another few taps of a keyboard, the Animus went offline and Sarah's breathing went back to normal. She began returning to consciousness, her world a white and gray blur before she could focus on what was going on. She'd hoped that everything she just saw was just a dream and that she'd wake up at her Uncle's house with Bill, Desmond and her father downstairs waiting for her.

Being in the Animus for so long had meant she'd forgotten her father was dead. She'd forgotten Desmond was nowhere to be found. She'd forgotten that she was Abstergo's main test subject. Her mind was blank and edited.

"Wakey-wakey, Miss Gratton."

Sarah eye's focused to see Vidic's face peering over her and a burst of anger filled her veins as she writhed in her restraints, shrieking and cursing at the man who was using her as a guinea pig.

"Still as feisty as ever, I see."

"Fuck you!"

"You're in no position to be acting like that." Sarah lashed out at him.

"When are you getting me out of this fucking machine?!" she screeched.

"When we've finished our research." He paced over to look at a computer screen.

"When will that be?"

"When your body gives way."

Sarah started thrashing again, screaming curses at the older man, who just looked at her with a blank if not smug expression.

"I'm just a fucking kid!" she screamed, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Vidic just smiled at her, not saying anything. He was enjoying the various emotions on the girl's face: anger, sadness, confusion, upset- it was all so very amusing to the doctor.

"Animus ready," Harrison spoke. Vidic nodded at him,

"Get her back in there."

"Yes sir."

Sarah didn't say anything this time, she just locked eyes with Vidic, her chest heaving as tears streaked her cheeks.

* * *

Channelle woke up slowly in her bed, her head pounding and everything aching. She exhaled deeply, adjusting herself to her surroundings. It was around midday, the distant hubbub of life and instructors yelling curses as their students was audible, and it put Channelle at ease. _It was all over_.

Channelle sat up, looking around. Sunlight flooded in through the window of her chambers, creating a beautiful pattern on the floor; a bowl of water and rolls of bandages were placed on her dresser, ready to be used; and a chair was next her bed which hadn't been there before. She presumed that someone had kept an eye on her. Channelle yawned and stretched, but quickly regretted this decision as her body complained. She whimpered quietly as she looked down at herself and noticed she was wearing nothing but bandages on her top half and a pair of oversized brown trousers. Her skin felt oily, as if it had been rubbed with ointment, and she noticed a number of fresh bruises on her abdomen.

There was a quiet knock on her door which alarmed Channelle for a moment.

"Uh- come in?" she was unsure of who it could be until Altair entered. _Of course. _His hood was down, revealing short dark brown hair, he wasn't wearing his armour and he wore a bandage on his left hand. It was then Channelle noticed he was missing his ring finger. _Had it always been missing...? _

_"_How are you feeling?" Altair asked, sitting on the chair next to her bed. Channelle adjusted herself against her pillow, sighing.

"Painful," she answered, "Extremely painful." She received a look of sympathy from her mentor.

"If I had said something about Al-Mualim sooner," he said, "then maybe this would not have happened. He could have been stopped entirely. I am sorry, for everything."

"You're apologizing, Altair?" Channelle raised a judging eyebrow, but then shook her head, "You don't need to. I acted on my own accord. And Al-Mualim already had the Apple, it'd happen sooner or later."

"I see," Altair said thoughtfully. He didn't say anything else for a few moments and he stared off ahead of him, which concerned his student.

"How about you?" Channelle asked him. "Are you alright?"

"I am still coming to terms with what has happened," he replied, a small hint of sadness in his voice,"I knew Al-Mualim for most of my life. When my father died... he took over in, a way."

"I'm sorry." Altair thought about his response and a friendly smile met his lips, something Channelle had never seen before,

"Now _you're_ apologizing, Channelle?"

Channelle laughed, but then groaned and held her ribs, "shit..." she mumbled in English.

Altair stood up from his seat, and ruffled her hair affectionately. "You should get more rest. I will check on you later on once you've slept more. I have to go and deal with the other Assassins and Al-Mualim's body. Good morning." He turned to leave but Channelle called out:

"Altair?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything."

Altair nodded in appreciation but once he was out of the room, he smiled.

* * *

**Channelle's POV**

It was quite peaceful for a while. Atmosphere calm, the people outside not being too loud, the air not too humid inside my chambers. However, the peace seemed to be disturbed by the sudden rising of voices and chatter from outside. I was curious, so I managed to force myself out of bed, despite my body's complaints.

Clutching my injury, I headed into the direction of loud hubbub, and saw villagers and Assassins crowding the entrance to the main study. Altair was there, standing in front of the body of Al-Mualim and talking to another Assassin, giving him instructions. Altair sighed after the other Assassin rushed off out of the courtyard, staring down at Al-Mualim with a look of despair and regret. He bent down and picked up the body, and began slowly walking out into the courtyard. The crowd whispered and gasped, gossiping among one another.

"The mentor is really dead?"

"He used some sort of magic, I heard."

"Altair murdered him...traitor..."

I could tell Altair heard the comments, yet he ignored them, carrying on with his journey. He reached the gates to the castle and was met by Abbas, who had the look of confusion and shocked on his bearded face.

"What has happened here?" he asked.

"Our mentor deceived us all," answered Altair flatly, "The Templars corrupted him."

"Where is your proof?" Abbas folded his arms and glared accusingly at Altair.

"Walk with me, Abbas, and I will explain."

"And if I find your answers wanting?"

"I will talk until you are satisfied."

Abbas walked with Altair down the mountain, and explained what had happened and what the Piece of Eden was. Abbas, of course, made many snark responses but instead of parrying with him like Altair usually would, he responded with honesty and calmness. I followed the two, making sure I wasn't detected.

Altair placed Al-Mualim's body on a pyre on top of a ledge which two other Assassin's had been preparing. There was a large gathering of both Assassins and villagers below the ledge watching what was happening above, many watching with the expression of disgust. Altair used a lit torch to start burning the Master's body. Abbas intervened, obviously horrified of what Altair had done.

"Altair! No!"

"I must know that he cannot return."

"But this is not our way! To burn a man's body is forbidden."

"Defiler!" someone cried from below. Altair looked down at the people,

"Hear me out!" he tried, "This body could be another one of Al-Mualim's phantoms! I _must_ be certain."

"Lies!" accused Abbas, "All your life, you have made a mockery of our Creed. You bend the rules to suit your whims, while belittling and humiliating those around you."

"Restrain him!" somebody else yelled.

"Did you not hear him?" another said, "Al-Mualim is bewitched."

What Abbas did next was unpredictable: he suddenly shoved Altair off the ledge whist he was distracted, who let out a cry as he fell. Abbas then turned, and ran, almost bumping into me in the process.

"Abbas, wait!" I called, "Please, everything Altair said is true!"

"No!" Abbas said,"I refuse to believe such rubbish."He continued sprinting off somewhere.

There was screaming and the sound of swords being drawn as the villagers scattered back to their homes and Assassins started having a civil dispute, turning on one another. Below I saw Altair disarming the men who attacked him, taking on up to three at a time.

"What did I tell you Altair?!" came a shout. The Assassins stopped fighting and looked up, where Abbas was stood at the top of an archer's tower holding a certain glowing orb in his hand.

"Abbas!" cried Altair, "Stop!"

"What did you think would happen when you murdered our beloved mentor?"

"You loved Al-Mualim less than anyone! You blamed him for all your misfortune, even your father's suicide."

"My father was a hero!"

"This is not the time to quarrel over the past. We must decide what to do with that weapon."

"Whatever this artifact is capable of, you are not worthy to wield it!"shouted Abbas.

"No man is!" finished Altair.

Then, something changed on Abbas's face. He was now gazing deeply into the glow of the Apple with wonder and lust, turning it in his hand.

"Ahhh...it is beautiful, is it not?"

The glowing started building up, as did a humming sound in the air which got louder. The earth began to shake and suddenly the Apple exploded realms of golden light, covering Masyaf, sending boiling hot vibrations through everyone. Abbas screamed out in pain as the first wave occurred. The next was soon to come and the ground below was unsettled, making it hard to stand on.

I doubled over at the familiar internal burning, clutching my stomach, unable to keep myself upright.

"Channelle!" Altair shouted. I looked at him. "What are you doing here?"

I could respond, I was in too much pain.

Altair went into action, aiming to stop Abbas and the Apple from doing any more damage. He quickly clambered up the ledge he was pushed off, sent me a look of sympathy before quickly climbing up the foot of the tower Abbas was on. The next wave of the Apple was more intense than the first, and I was knocked to the floor. I watched Altair as he was now over halfway up the tower. He'd timed his movements so that he wouldn't fall from the viscous attacks of the Apple, however the time periods between the waves grew shorter but more powerful. It was clear that Abbas wouldn't last much longer.

Finally Altair reached the top and the glowing stopped. My body relaxed too quickly and I struggled to keep conscious. I lay on the floor for a while before I felt someone pick me up.

"Oh Channelle," a voice sighed, "Can you not follow my instructions?"

I smiled sheepishly, opening my eyes to see Altair.

"I wanted to see what was going on," I answered, my voice croaky.

"You need rest. Sleep, my child."

I felt warm at the term of endearment, and I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep as he carried me back to my chambers.


End file.
